DC3: Delusions of Perfection
by Kitty Felone
Summary: Uno has lived a life of blood in the year 4514 and somehow gets shipped to the 1800s for a second chance at a normal life, but what happens when the Goddess of Death meets the Angel of Hell?
1. Reality is a Dream

**I can't urge this enough: READ ALL OF THE NOTES BEFORE READING THE STORY!**

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Duo's Child 3: Delusions of Perfection  
**_Kitty Felone  
_July 16, 2005

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**PLEASE READ _EVERYTHING_ POSTED BELOW BEFORE READING THE STORY!**

Summary: Uno has lived a life of blood in the year 4514 and somehow gets shipped to the 1800s for a second chance at a normal life, but what happens when the Goddess of Death meets the Angel of Hell?

Disclaimer has five parts:  
1) I do **not** own Gundam Wing, Phantom of the Opera, or any of the lyrics you will most likely see in this story (though it will explain that my character has made them). I can't stress this disclaimer enough, to at least pray that you will not flame me in any way for posting what I do.

2) You do **not** _have_ to read Duo's Child 1 or Duo's Child 2 to understand Duo's Child 3. Though, yes, this is the final story to the Duo's Child Trilogy, it is a story entirely on its own. Duo's Child 1 explains the character's youth and her childhood. Duo's Child 2 explains _entirely_ about how she tries to live in the world from the way her childhood had left her off. And finally, Duo's Child 3 is entirely about her at having a second chance for a normal life, away from all the bloodshed she has been forced to fight within.

3) Unlike the previous two, this story will not be Gundam Wing based. I am quite aware that many of you out there will be new to this form of story, as I am combining a Gundam Wing story with a Phantom of the Opera story; those who know of the first and second Duo's Child stories will understand just about everything that is going on with her and will only see this as a new thing for her; you will all be just as confused about the 1800s as she is. And those who know all about Phantom of the Opera will see this story as an entirely new fic on its own; you will see Uno Maxwell as a new character in another typical Phantom of the Opera story and wonder what it is about this girl, why she is the way she is, and who exactly is she? All of you will be confused in some way and I will try and actually answer reviews before each update, so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask; I will actually answer them publicly.

4) Now I will say this one time… or so I hope since I won't always have the time to repeat myself later on. This story will **not** be updated often! I am going to try and return to my old habit of taking about a month to update and the biggest reason for this, is for the thing I was once best known for when I wrote Duo's Child 1… the length. I'm going to try and make each chapter at _least_ 20 pages long! That means, I will take some time as often as I can to write. If you see me update fast then be happy… because it more than likely won't happen that often. I have a life; I work, I have several other stories, I have a fiancé… I will be having school soon... I don't have much time to write and still I would like to enjoy reading some things.

5) The genre of this story will **not** change once I post the first chapter. It is considered Romance/Humor or Humor Romance, whichever I post it as at the start. You may question the humor but this story has a dark taste to it; all the humor in it will be most likely darkened by the wording rather than all of the action, though there will be some light, fluffy laughing coming from the actions that are taken over. The romance will take some time, seeing as the characters are slowly coming out of a hell from their own state-of-minds.

Intense Warnings: This story is considered rated R, also known as M (for mature audiences _only_!) for strong language… and I mean _strong_ language! There is mild sexual notice in here and mild violence.

**Now that you have all read the previous statements, you may carry on. If you have not read everything above –this- statement, please do so! YOU _MUST_ READ THE PREVIOUS STATEMENTS _BEFORE_ READING THIS STORY! And if you have, enjoy the story, pass it around, advertise it, and please, review as much as possible.**

**Thank you, _  
_**_Kitty Felone

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**Duo's Child 3: Delusions of Perfection  
**_A brief insight to the delusions of perfection…  
_A child is born at the height of a war  
She is raised in peace and bred for death  
She is a normal, casual child who laughs.  
The year is 4502 and life is perfect on Earth and in space.  
She makes friends and falls in love  
Her life gains meaning and her breeding ceases  
She now becomes a figure of the population.  
The year is now 4507 and life is slowly falling apart.  
She carries on, oblivious to those following her every move  
Tears threaten her life and her friends are shredded away  
Her family vanishes and she is left alone in fear.  
The year is 4511 and life is turning to Hell as peace disappears.  
She prepares for her fate rests with blood  
She fights for her life depends on it  
She lives for the war that her life has become.  
The year is 4513 and life dies from a massive war.  
When at last something clicks and she realizes the truth  
Who she thought was dead finally dies in her hands  
What she thought was lost finally leaves her entirely.  
The year is 4514 and life depends on her soul survival.  
She knows she is perfect  
She knows she is a Goddess  
She knows she is the only one who can win the war.  
The year is 4514 and life dies from her hands.  
She knows she is perfect  
She knows she is a Goddess of Death  
She knows she is the only one who can stop the madness.  
The year is 4514 and life drains away by her touch.  
She knows she is perfect  
She knows she is death  
She goes out with a _boom_ and takes the war with her to Hell.  
The year is 4514 and life finally has another chance of peace.  
She knows she is perfect  
She knows she is a Goddess of Death  
She knows she is alone in the world.  
The year is 4514 and life realizes the rein of the Goddess of Death is no more.  
She knows she is perfect  
She knows she is the Goddess of Death  
She expects to start anew where fate has sent her.  
The year is 1873 and life has never heard of space travel, colonization, military fighting machines, world wars, and air travel.  
Still she knows she is perfect  
Still she knows she is Shinimegami  
And still she strives for perfection.  
The year is 1873 and life is no more than a delusion in her eyes of perfection.  
_-Kitty Felone_

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_**-Chapter One-  
**Darkness. That's all that swarmed her. Her head ached and there was a bad taste in her mouth. She could feel her temples pulsing and it only added into the headache more. She could feel her heartbeat pounding beneath her ribs and it forced more of that horrible taste into her mouth. What was that taste called anyways? 

Was it blood?

She swallowed hard and cringed. Yes. Blood was in her mouth. It was in her teeth, her gums, in her throat; her tongue was drenched in it. She should have expected as much, knowing how she was hard to kill. How many time have she gotten herself injured, near death, somehow survived, and found that horrible metallic taste in her mouth afterwards? How many times has she done the unthinkable to only have the worse aftereffects take place for the consequences?

_Life's a bitch_, she berated silently. _Now why the fuck am I still lying down when the war's probably still going on above me?_

Uno took a deep breath before gathering all of her strength. She pulled herself together mentally and began sitting up to only wince out in pain. She choked gasp of shock as she felt three ribs ache at the movement, her arms sting, and her knees shake.

_Bruised ribs, sprained arms, bruised knees,_ she totaled up mentally, _at least I'm still alive and amazingly I don't have anything broken._

Cool hands rested themselves on her shoulders and gently pushed her back down onto her back. Uno sighed and grumbled. It was probably Justin again; that guy had a tendency to watch over her like a puppy to its master. Her lips formed into a smirk and she pushed out a breath through a small chuckle.

"God Justin," murmured Uno. "How often are you going to follow me around and care for me? Until you finally see me dead one day?"

The reply was _not_ what she was expecting.

"I beg your pardon?" Uno frowned. The voice was _definitely_ not Justins. "Who is this Justin?"

The voice sounded feminine, foreign, older, and wiser; that right there told her it was _definitely_ not Justin's voice. Uno opened her eyes immediately and was greeted by darkness. She cast her eyes around and noticed her locations. There was a lamp at the far end of the room with a nice black lacy overhang covering the visor that lit the back of the room up. Besides the lamp—which was sitting on a rather ornate-looking table—was a book that was laid faced down, as if the reader had to suddenly stop reading. Besides the table was a violet settee, then following the room closer to herself she found an old Victorian dressing table, an armoire, and some other Victorian decorations.

Uno figured she was resting on the only bed the room had to offer. She glanced up at the face of a woman much older than herself and frowned. The soft brown eyes gazed down at her and readjusted the coverlet that had covered Uno's injured body. Her hands, which moved swiftly and appeared stiff, were graceful in movements. The woman's aroma smelled of vanilla and Uno noticed there was a long braid following down the back of her body.

"What the fuck?" Uno spat out. The woman froze and there was a sign of fright that crossed over her face, which Uno also noticed—despite it being hard to catch, Uno had trained her eyes to catch details immediately—had appeared slightly aged, signaling the woman to be at _least_ in her fifties or older.

"Who the hell are you?" Uno barked out. "And where the fuck am I?"

The woman gulped and took a step back before composing herself and straightening up. She appeared to restrain from allowing the intimidation to get to her, a move which Uno had to admit was quite admirable; the woman had guts and she would rather challenge than run and hide.

"Calm yourself, Child," she said coolly. Uno's intense gaze softened and her brows knitted together.

_Child_, Uno questioned silently. _Who the fuck talks like _that _anymore?_

"You are in rather bad shape and need to rest."

Uno snorted and turned away. The woman thought a few bruised bones was bad shape? Boy would she die of shock if she ever saw how Uno was in the years prior.

"You call a few bruised ribs and aching arms and legs bad shape?" Uno scoffed out.

The woman frowned. "How can you be certain you are with only a few bruised bones?" Uno glanced back at the woman with question in her own eyes. "I have sent for the doctor. He is on his way."

"I don't need a doctor," she spat out. "I know what's wrong with my body better than anybody. It's _my_ body, after all."

The woman took a deep breath as if to press the subject further but simply kept her lips pressed together and nodded her head. Uno turned away and glanced around at a few of the photos. They looked as old as the images in the mansion she had once lived in; in fact, there wasn't a single picture that had looked fairly new.

"Why don't you decorate your room with new decorations?" Uno murmured out. "Instead of all these old photographs?"

The woman turned and glanced at the photographs on the wall by the lamp and knitted her brows in worry. She turned back to Uno and stared at her silently. Uno could tell she was debating on answering.

"I do not understand," the woman said. "These _are_ rather new. They were taken just a few years ago."

"How can they look so old and be claimed to be new?" Uno's brows knitted together in worry as she turned to stare at the image of a woman in a huge gown with stars all over her hair.

"I do not understand," the woman paused for a brief moment and when Uno glanced back up at her she was staring down into her face. "I think you are rather ill and need your rest."

Uno clenched her teeth and balled her fists—which were thankfully hidden by the coverlet. This woman was entirely a freak! The first thing Uno knew not to do was question the woman's motives any further. If the lady insisted they were new then let her believe they were new; the sooner Uno could get out and back into the battlefield the better.

_And it's people like _this_ I'm fighting for?_ She closed her eyes slowly and sighed. _I think I need to contemplate my actions next time I shoot somebody._

There was a lot of noise coming up from besides her and when Uno opened her eyes back up she saw the woman had turned away from her and was moving things off of a wooden chair. Uno frowned and stared at the woman's back. The way the lady had moved amazed Uno all the more. She appeared stiff and rigid but her movements were delicate and graceful. When she stared at Uno she had shown age—though most people wouldn't be able to see it as clearly as _she_ could—she had shown wisdom and she had shown a lot of triumph, as if she were to challenge God alone to fight for life. And the braid that trailed down from the nape of her neck—the grayish-_brown_ braid that trailed down from the nape of her neck—had startled Uno all the more.

_And I thought _I_ was the only one who treasured a braid these days._

The woman pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and took a seat upon it. Uno watched as she fixed the folds of her black—it also appeared to have pale flowers on it—dress before folding her hands and setting them upon her lap. She kept her gaze fixed upon Uno. For a moment, Uno thought she was peeking into the future and seeing herself; she looked just the same, the form and movements were about equal and the stern gaze upon the woman's face was just like her own!

"What is your name, child?" The woman asked. Uno felt herself slowly easing beneath the soft question, despite the alertness she should feel for giving out her name.

"Uno," Uno replied.

The woman arched a brow. "No surname?"

Uno bit back and forced her fear down her throat in a hard swallow. "Maxwell," she replied uneasily.

"Uno Maxwell?" The woman nodded her head softly. "I am Madam Giry, Uno."

_Madam?_ Uno glanced back at the photographs hanging on the wall, her brows creased in wonder. _Who the hell goes by those pet names anymore?_

"You do not sound like a native," Madam Giry insisted. Uno turned to see the quizzical gaze upon her face. "Where are you from?"

"I—" Uno paused; if she wasn't in the Eastern Territory anymore then where could she possibly be? How far could the explosion have tossed her body? "The last I checked I was in the Eastern Territory of the Earth's Sphere Unified Nations. Where else would I be?"

Madam Giry frowned worriedly at her. "The… Eastern Territory of… the Earth's Sphere… Unified… Nations?" Uno felt a sickening lump in her throat at the way the woman repeated her said location in question. "I don't know where that is but I assure you, you are no where near there. You are in France. In Paris, to be exact."

The lump in Uno's throat got harder to breathe around and she had to force herself to swallow it before being able to speak. She squeaked when she finally managed to swallow the block in her throat. Her eyes widened partially as she mouthed ' Paris France'.

" France… you mean the French Territory, within the European Nation?" Madam Giry's worried gaze only increased.

"I beg your pardon, Uno? France is a country on its own." She turned her head away from Uno but her eyes remained glued. Her brows creased together and it wasn't until Uno glanced down at herself, tucked neatly beneath the coverlet of the bed, that Madam Giry turned away as well.

_Eastern_ _Territory__… it was __America__ at one point,_ Uno berated silently.

"I'm from… America," she slurred out. Madam Giry glanced back down as Uno slowly stared up at the woman besides her. She smiled and relaxed in the chair as she noticed Uno's worried expression.

"I don't know how I got to be in France from America," Uno murmured as her eyes trailed down from the woman's face. She zoned out and knitted her brows together as she thought of the only possibly solution.

_I guess the explosion flew me a good distance… but to give me only bruised bones—how is that possible?_

"Well apparently you must have forgotten how you came to be in Paris—the Opera Populaire, to be exact," Madam Giry said casually as she straightened invisible creased of her dress.

Uno's brows shot to her forehead. "What am I doing in an opera house?"

Madam Giry glanced at her and pondered this for a moment. "That is what I would like to know. Clement found you lying in our hallway—nearly stumbled to his death over you—and didn't know who you were. You appeared battered and badly beaten and our first guess was that your pimp had been unhappy with you and attempted to harm you; we figured you came into the opera house to try and hide, considering its midnight and the building is quite dark during this time." Uno's mouth was gaping in shock as the woman explained how Uno was found and how she was taken.

_Pimp! They think I'm a fucking whore?_

"P-pimp?" Uno rasped out. "You think I'm some fucking whore?"

Madam Giry looked taken aback and quite nervous underneath Uno's astonished outbreak. She glanced down at the folds of her dress for a brief moment before returning to face Uno with strict determination.

"Now you must learn to watch what you say, child." Uno choked out on her next breath as Madam Giry continued to explain and lecture against her swearing. "It is not lady-like for a woman to be swearing as much as you do and a woman shouldn't be swearing to begin with. But from the clothes you are wearing and the words for which you are using tells me all that I need to know."

"I'm not a fucking whore you crazed bitch!" Madam Giry pressed her lips together in a thin line and held her tongue. Uno's brows creased together as she grew more and fiercer by the moment. Every minute she spent by Madam Giry's side had the older woman thinking she was needing a doctor to heal her up and return her to the streets and it was making Uno angrier and angrier.

Uno's fists balled by her sides and she gritted her teeth in pain as she forced herself to a sitting position. "And who the fuck is Clement?"

Madam Giry looked as if she were forcing herself to stay calm. "Clement is a very trusting stage handler. He is a good man and only meant to wonder at your conditions. At first he thought you to be a young boy but when he saw you in the light he saw you were really a young woman and brought you immediately to me." Madam Giry waited for a moment before adding in, "He would have left you if he did not think to care so much for anybody and had he been any of the other stage handlers, he would have tried to attack you once he found out you were not a boy at all."

Uno snorted. "Won't be the first time I've been raped." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to better sooth her nerves. "Do you have a phone? I need to call somebody that's most likely worrying his ass off right about now."

"A… phone?" Uno opened her eyes slowly and glanced over at Madam Giry's face; the woman looked confused and lost. "What is a phone?"

Uno paused for a moment then figured the French had probably went by a different term than the cut-down, slang version. She shrugged her shoulders before correcting herself.

"A telephone," Uno stated. "Do you have one?"

"What is a telephone?"

Uno felt herself growing worried once again. This woman apparently had no idea what a telephone was, she had old photographs on hanging on the back wall, she dressed quite odd and spoke with the old French accent.

_What had she gotten herself into?_

"Do you have a computer?" Uno knew Madam Giry most likely wouldn't know what a computer was if she had never heard of the telephone but it was worth a shot. "Or some way I can contact a friend?"

"I do not know what a computer is but if you wish to send a telegram I can send for one to be delivered. Where would you like to send it too?"

Uno shook her head and sagged her shoulders. She knew there was no use in trying to explain her urgency to this poor woman; if she didn't know what a computer or a telephone was and expected to contact somebody through an old fashioned telegram than she knew not to bother with the subject any further.

"Never mind," Uno murmured. "Forget it."

Madam Giry nodded. "You need to lie down, child. You must lie down and rest. Whether or not you wish to see the doctor you _must_ lie down and get some rest."

Uno took a deep breath and blew it out the same. She lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, silently chanting to herself that she was just in a bad dream. Madam Giry adjusted the coverlet once more before standing back up and returning to lamp on the other side of the room. Uno watched as she took a seat and picked up her discarded book then glanced over at the night table besides the bed. Sitting on top of the casual wooden tabletop was a lamp, a tall slim vase with a single red rose sitting within it, and a newspaper. The lamp was gas light and Uno decided against pondering its existence; if the woman had never heard of a computer—let alone the twenty-first century appliance known as a telephone—then most likely she chose to rather use gas powered things.

_What's the lamp she's using to read? It looks table-top electrical but perhaps it only _looks_ it._ She turned away from the ill-light lamp and to the rose. All the thorns were sliced off and there was a black ribbon tied to the stem; Uno had to admit, the two colors matched perfectly and she wasn't just saying that as the two colors were her favorite.

_Black and red always _had_ gone together quite well,_ she noted down mentally before smiling. When she noticed the newspaper her brows knitted together in wonder, as the images appeared as old as the photographs hanging on the back wall and even the text looked blotchy, as if it had been through the old printing press rather than the laser-jetted factories; and yet, the paper looked as new as it were today's fresh copy!

Then she noticed the date.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Uno spat out. Madam Giry jumped at the tone of the voice and the words it held with it. Uno shot to an upright position, ignoring the throbbing pains that told her to lie back down, and grasped the newspaper from the table.

"How the fuck can it be eighteen-seventy-three?"

Madam Giry was by her side in a heartbeat and pulling the paper out of her hands. "Please Uno," she urged as she pulled with all her might and ripped the paper from Uno's grasp. "You must lower your voice and do not speak those sinful words again!"

Uno gawked up at Madam Giry as she felt herself going white. "How… how the hell can the date say eighteen-seventy-three?" She repeated. "That's not possible—it's not possible!"

Madam Giry placed the newspaper on the chair and proceeded to Uno back down to the bed but she didn't get far. Uno shook off the older woman's hands and stared up at her with a slightly stunned expression.

"Tell me! How can I be in eighteen-seventy-three?"

Madam Giry ceased forcing her down onto her back and only stared at Uno in wonder. "I do not understand you, child. It has always been eighteen-seventy-three since eighteen-seventy-three first arrived. The date you read on there is correct; today is, in fact, August fourteenth, eighteen-seventy-three." Madam Giry returned to pushing Uno down onto the bed. "Now I ask you, Uno, please lie down. You are not well to be sitting up and you definitely shouldn't be saying the things you do. It is improper."

Uno gave up and let the older woman push her back down onto the bed. Madam Giry released a breath of air as she finally got the younger lady to lie back down; the only worry she had was wondering if Uno would remain laying down.

"Now you must learn to relax," Madam Giry urged on. "It is not wise for you to keep sitting up. If what you say is true and you have bruised bones, the only thing you'll do is injure them more." She covered Uno back up with the coverlet once again then took the chair besides the bed. "But I assure you the date you saw on the paper is correct. Today is, indeed, August fourteenth, eighteen-seventy-three."

The color drained from Uno's face as she stared at Madam Giry in shock. "How can that be?" She breathed out. "Just yesterday it was AC one-nine-seven. How can I suddenly be in eighteen-seventy-three?" She paused and realized something else to add in. "And it's August! The last I noticed it was October!"

The older woman sighed and hung her head. "Uno—I bed you to please relax."

Uno closed her eyes and bit back the scream that was finding its way up her throat. To make certain she wouldn't release it and with it a thousand frenzied attacks at the poor woman she swallowed a huge gush of air. Once the gulp was down she gasped out for more air to breath.

_This is all just a bad dream,_ Uno chanted to herself. _A fucking nightmare. This is all just a nightmare! There's no way in _hell_ that I could have traveled twenty-six thousand and forty-one years into the past _and_ an extra two months on top of _that

"This isn't happening," Uno murmured. "This isn't possible." Madam Giry shushed her softly but Uno continued to berate herself silently.

_The explosion _had_ to have something to do with it… to somehow create a time warp or something… a vortex of some sort._ Uno took a deep breath and the hand that began to gently pet at her forehead begun to work its magic into settling her nerves. _That's it… it's just gotta' be a glitch in the system. All three computer systems were strong on their own and tapping into all three at once might have overpowered the mainframe and caused a vortex to happen when I self destructed. If that's the case, then I'm alone in this place._

"Oh God," Uno cried out softly.

"Shhh," cooed Madam Giry. "Calm yourself, child. If you do not feel you belong here then God will show you the reason for your arrival in time."

Uno snorted at that comment but said nothing. The old woman put too much faith into God. Uno knew enough to believe miracles couldn't happen; they were just computer glitches or malfunctions.

_Like this,_ she mentally noted down. _This was just a computer glitch. Too much power combined all at once created some sort of vortex time warp and sent me crashing twenty-six thousand and forty-one years into the past._

"So tell me Uno," Madam Giry began, "what was the last thing you remembered?"

Uno kept her eyes shut for fear of opening them up to still see the same old fashioned—which was actually quite updated due to the year—room and the older woman who looked much like a future vision of herself.

"I was in Angel, wrapping my arms around the headquarters of Synodd, and then I hit the self destruct button," Uno blurted out.

The massaging on her forehead ceased and the hand pulled away. Uno opened her eyes and knitted her brows together as she gazed up at Madam Giry. The woman was frowning down at her.

"You were inside of an angel?"

Uno shook her head softly but the slightest movements had somehow brought on an aching into her temples. "No… I was in Angel—" Uno stopped herself immediately as she realized the woman had no idea what she was talking about. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My gundam's name is Angel… a gundam is a large machine that I sit inside of and pilot."

Uno opened her eyes to see Madam Giry nodding. "A machine that you sit inside of and pilot?"

"I… yeah. It's a giant robot, basically."

"What is a robot?"

Uno contemplated for a moment before censoring up her explanation. Finally cleaning her excuses of any futuristic talk she was babbling, Uno finally managed to come out with an all-time decent approach.

"I was fighting in the war and finishing the battle that would end the whole war. I thought my final move would stop the war entirely but… somehow, I think I would up here through a twist of fate. I think… some how a time warp had happened and send me here." Uno hoped she had understood that.

Madam Giry stared at her. "You fought in a war?" Uno nodded at her stunned expression. "Where you come from women fight?"

Uno nodded once again. "They also dress like I do and also different," she added in. Madam Giry looked taken aback.

"And you said… somehow, a time warp had brought you into the eighteen-hundreds?"

"Into the nineteenth century," Uno repeated. She nodded and forced a smirk. "Yeah… I suppose."

"Well… I can't promise you anybody else would believe you."

Hope sparkled in Uno's eyes. "But you do?"

Madam Giry stared at the younger woman for a moment before returning her hand to continue the earlier movements of massaging Uno's forehead.

"I believe you are not from around here," Madam Giry replied. "You do not look the same if you are wearing clothing that not even men wear and your accent is foreign, not to mention your mouth."

Uno frowned. "My mouth?"

"Your language is horrible!" Madam Giry exclaimed; Uno felt herself a little girl being berated for bad manners—and in a way, she was. Madam Giry looked at _least_ fifty and hearing a girl of Uno's age—sixteen—swearing and speaking with words that would make the devil blush was indeed, improper.

"I advise that you _must_ learn to control what you say, at least, if you cannot clean it up. When the managers of the opera house hear you they will wish for you removal and if what you say is true, that you come from the future, then I cannot promise your safety on these Parisian streets."

"I've lived on the streets once before," Uno murmured as she glanced down at her covered body. "I know how to live on the streets, still, if need be it. It's in my blood."

The massaging ceased and Madam Giry stared at her. Uno glanced up at the woman's questioning gaze.

"My father grew up a street rat before he was taken into the orphanage," Uno explained. "And then for years I thought I was just an orphan under his name because he took me in off the streets. But just recently, before he died in my hands, he told me he found out he was really my true father and not just my guardian."

Madam Giry nodded as she took in all that Uno was saying. "But I assure you, Uno, you would not be safe on the streets."

Uno snorted. "I was three when I last lived on the streets," she spat out. Madam Giry shot an astonished face at her. "I think I can manage now that I'm older and _much_ wiser."

"Three?" The woman gasped. "Good heaven's, child, you were but a babe!"

Uno closed her eyes against the soft thumping of the veins at her temples. "It's nothing," she muttered. "I managed to live like that for about a year."

"A year?" Madam Giry breathed out. "What did you do for food? For shelter?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders and explained the beginning of her life as if it were just a past memory. _And it _was_ a past memory,_ she remembered hearing herself say. _What's in the past is in the past. Keep it that way!_

"I stole for food and I lived in a cardboard box," Uno said with as much air as if she were tossing the idea of talking about herself away. She didn't care about the past. She always believed it was over and done for and she should move on to the future and not look back.

Plus, looking back showed she was not stabilized and strong enough to keep moving on.

"What of your mother? You said your father later took you in—why was he not there for you?"

"My mother tossed me away when a rather huge explosion hit besides her. I don't remember much after that but I think the explosion had killed her," Uno said casually. "My father didn't know I was his daughter until he asked me what my mother's name was."

"This war you were fighting in when you came here… is it the same war?"

Uno shook her head. "No. The war I was fighting was a war based from the one my father fought in. I'm sure he would have stayed with my mother if he didn't have to fight. He and everyone else raised me to be able to fight incase another war broke out."

"And it had," Madam Giry answered. Uno nodded. Madam Giry blew out a sigh of relief and drew her hand away from Uno. "I think you need as much rest as I feel I need now."

Uno's brows knitted in worry and she opened her eyes to stare up at the older woman besides her. "Is this your bed?"

Madam Giry nodded and waved her hand in the air as if dismissing the thought. "It is but I have a settee I can sleep in for tonight. Tomorrow, however, you will need to explain yourself to the mangers. I suggest you tell them you came from America."

"That's understandable," Uno commented through a grin. "But why would I be found in the opera house?"

"This is an opera house," Madam Giry explained, "what talents do you have?"

"An opera house?" Uno repeated. Madam Giry nodded and waited silently for an answer. "Well… I can play just about any instrument. I've composed a few pieces."

Madam Giry shook her head. "Women are not known to do such things. It would be improper and would not be accepted into the Parisian society."

"I don't care what other people think of me," Uno scoffed out. "They can all kiss my ass and burn in Hell for all that I care."

"Uno," Madam Giry's brows furrowed, "watch your mouth. I can't advise you enough to clean your words!"

Uno sighed, knowing well enough that the task Madam Giry was asking would take a miracle on its own. She's been cussing worse than a sailor for four years. Breaking the old habit would be just as hard as getting her hand herself over to the enemy; it just wouldn't happen that easily.

After a sigh, Madam Giry tried again. "You would not be accepted and your talents would be ignored and poked at. Do you have any other forms of talent? Can you sing?"

"I—" Uno bit her tongue fiercely before saying anything more. She always said the past should remain in the past. "No," she lied, "I can't sing. I never really could and after choir tryouts in my childhood I gave up."

The serious gaze on the woman's face softened. "What happened?"

"I… didn't get into the choir." Uno's eyes trailed away from the softened gaze from the older woman besides her.

"Do you know ballet?" She asked. Uno frowned up at her. "Do you know how to dance?"

"It's been a while," Uno replied. "But I can dance. I've taken lessons when I was seven until I was nine."

Madam Giry smiled. "There then, your story is made. Tomorrow you will tell the managers that you have arrived from America in search of an opera to dance within and to get out of the rain you came early and got lost."

"Don't you mean late?" Uno questioned. "If you found me at midnight, I'd assume I came late."

"No child, early. The weather here has been horrible for this past week and has yet to clear up. When Clement found you it had stopped raining and you were dry." Madam Giry fixed a few creases she found on the folds of her dress. "You will tell them that you have gone looking for somebody to find and got lost, tripped, and fell unconscious."

Uno had to grin at the woman's amazing intelligence. "You've got the upper hand, it seems."

"Well," Madam Giry straightened her back against the chair and sat up stern, "I _have_ helped to hide a dear friend once before and I still hide that same friend to this very day."

"So you know how to keep a secret," Uno muttered. Madam Giry stared at her silently before nodding.

"Yes. I can keep secrets and I have kept well over a few in my lifetime." Madam Giry returned to the folds of her dress then continued on explaining the plans for the next day. "They will ask you for an audition, of course, and perhaps not until next week for this Friday is the final showing of _Don Quijote De La Mancha_. After that will be a break for the cast then the auditions begin for the next showing, which is _Adina_."

Uno knew that if it were possible a gigantic question mark would be sitting on top of her head that very moment. "I have no idea what those titles refer to," she spat out without thinking.

Madam Giry smiled. "They are opera titles. Have you never been in an opera, before? Or at least, seen one?"

Uno shook her head. "Where I come from… they rarely even exist. The most I've been to that's considered upper class is a government meeting and even then I shot everyone down and had them all feeling stupid."

Madam Giry stared at her for a moment as her brows knitted together. "You… made the government feel… stupid?" Uno nodded. "How is this possible? You are only a child."

"I was younger then," Uno added in. "I was to sit in and just watch and listen and learn for my future but I couldn't stay quiet at the autocracy they spoke of. It was unnerving to see those people ruling millions."

"How could you have the ability to sit in one of their meetings?"

Uno opened her mouth to answer but stopped herself. She had to remember to watch what she said. She didn't want to let out _too_ much of the truth for if she did, her title would grow to be higher than a Duchess and she didn't need _that_ added onto her conscious along with what the so-called Parisian society would think of her already.

"My family knew people and wanted me to join since I was a bit wondrous as to what goes on when the government officials aren't making any huge comments to the people."

Uno had hoped the woman fell for the cheap lie and in a way she felt it had been accepted, but one look at the woman's eyes had told Uno otherwise. Madam Giry was _much_ smarter than she appeared; she knew Uno wasn't telling the truth.

"Your family knew people, I see." It wasn't a question and Uno felt herself slowly feeling under pressure at the intense gaze Madam Giry held over her.

A small reminder tugged in the back of her mind. _Why the fuck am I letting this bitch rule over me like some fucking mother? She's not of any importance to me!_

"Yeah," Uno shot back. She narrowed her eyes and raised her chin. "They did."

Madam Giry turned her head to the side and regarded the younger woman for a brief moment before blowing out an exhausted breath and standing up from the chair. Uno kept her gaze directed into the older woman's eyes even when the woman turned around and pushed the chair back against the opposite wall.

"If you wish," Madam Giry turned back and faced her, "when the doctor arrives I will cancel his calling and send him back?"

"Yes," Uno agreed. "I don't need a doctor to tell me what I already know."

Madam Giry nodded. "Very well. Tomorrow you will tell the managers what I have told you and you will take the weekend to rest and prepare for your auditions. Do you know what you will audition with? They would like to see what you can do before you audition for a part and this requires a show of some talent."

"I can make something," Uno said, ignoring the fact that she had already been warned that any music composed by a woman was highly unrated and looked down upon. "And if they won't accept it then I'll tell them that they have no right to distinct me like that and I will tell them entirely what I think they should do with their opera house then find myself a better life elsewhere." Uno kept her gaze strict and upon Madam Giry's face, her chin high, and her tone set.

Madam Giry took a deep breath but simply nodded out her reply. "Very well," she said coolly. "If you insist. I _have_ warned you but if you insist upon doing it anyways, very well. I suppose I can't stop you for trying." Uno smirked. "When the doctor comes I shall send him away."

"Yes," Uno's smirk turned into a grin, "you will."

* * *

**A great start, no? I hope you all read the earlier notes... if you haven't, DO SO! Please review; I'm trying to make this go as well as I can without making people lost or confused. If any of you have questions, I'll post the reply on the next update (even though I hate doing that but I'll do it for this time because I know how lost some of you may get). Remember, you DON'T need to read DC1 or 2 to better understand DC3! And I know Uno sounds like a bitch to most of you all... but there's a BIG reason and you'll see that eventually... trust me... (grins) You'll see just how 'talented' this girl really is... hehehe (evil chuckle)**

**And if any of you are wondering why I waited until TODAY to post this.. simple... TODAY I'M GOING TO SEE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA LIVE ON BROADWAY!**

**Also... if you are still confused about Uno Maxwell and who she is or whatnot... you may view the site and read all you want about her profile and her diary and the people she had in her life, by going to the website. The website, called The Synodd Database, is located on my bio. Click it and enjoy.**


	2. Starting Anew

**Bladestar:** No, sorry, what happened in Duo's Child 1 and 2 will have nothing to do with Duo's Child 3. The final story is dedicated to helping move her back out into the world. If she remained with Justin, her comrade from Duo's Child 2, then she will always be on the look out for Ricky (from Duo's Child 1 and the end of 2) and more of Synodd. With being in the far distant past, she is certain to be away from any traces of Synodd all together.

* * *

**- Chapter Two -**  
Uno woke to the sound of Madam Giry bustling about the room. She remained motionless, appearing to still be asleep, and let the older woman believe her to be just that. For the moment, she wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ to wake up, to open her eyes and see that what she last remembered was really true and really happened. 

_I folded my arms around the building, hit the self destruct button, went out with an audible _boom_, and then I wake up here? In eighteen-seventy-three?_

"No—not there," whispered Madam Giry. Now Uno's curiosity got the best of her.

"What are you looking for?" Uno asked from her silent perch upon the bed. Slowly, her eyes opened to gaze up at the familiar wooden ceiling.

"My hairbrush," replied Madam Giry. She turned around and propped up her fists on her hips and took in the room with a frown. "Last night I placed it on the vanity but I do not see it there anymore."

Uno turned from the ceiling then dragged her gaze over to the woman. She could see how frustrated Madam Giry was about that damn hairbrush; the woman was gazing about the room, her brows knitted together, pondering as to where it could have wound up. With a groan, Uno pushed up to a sitting position and shut her eyes to blur out the dizziness that would soon overcome her vision.

"Hang on," Uno grumbled out. She slid her legs off the side of the bed. "What was the last thing you recalled doing with it?"

Madam Giry gawked at her. "Why—brushing my hair, of course."

Uno nodded and opened her eyes to frown up at the woman. "I mean… never mind." Madam Giry returned to searching the room and Uno watched from where she sat. The woman was nervous about something for she entirely overlooked the only spot in the room where the hairbrush could sit: the vanity chair.

"I found your hairbrush," Uno murmured out. Madam Giry turned to see Uno sitting upon the bed, a grin plastered to her face.

"Where is it then?"

Uno lowered her head and chuckled softly to herself. "You must be zoning out. It's on your vanity chair."

Madam Giry turned to the vanity table, pulled out the chair, and then murmured a phrase under her breath that Uno had to laugh at.

"I thought you said swearing is improper," Uno retorted. Madam Giry sighed and took a seat upon the chair after she picked up the once lost hairbrush. She regarded Uno for a moment before turning away and towards the mirror.

"I'm quite nervous," said the woman. "The ballet is not ready for tomorrow night and still they require _weeks_ more training."

Uno hung her head and shut her eyes, remembering the childhood days of when she used to dance. It was hard enough when the dance instructor would beam down upon her and continue to better challenge the dancers. Uno was the only one who had managed to accomplish the swan leap, point, and several other dance steps before the main piece was learned. Most of the class had hated her for it but when they saw how flexible she was and how amazingly talented she was—she could do several flips and cartwheels _without_ the use of her hands—they quieted down.

"You're the ballet mistress," said Uno more as a statement rather than a question. Madam Giry turned to her then. Uno opened her eyes and raised her head, her face displaying no signs of emotion whatsoever.

"That I am," Madam Giry agreed. "I have been the ballet mistress for this opera for over three decades."

Uno smirked. "Long time."

"Yes," agreed Madam Giry with a nod of her head. "It has been. My daughter, Meg, has become a dancer within the acts, as well. It is only right for her to take her place as a ballerina."

"To follow in the footsteps of her mother?" Uno retaliated. Madam Giry stared at her for a moment, contemplating what Uno had said, before simply nodding her answer.

"I have sent the doctor away," she said before turning back to the mirror. Uno knitted her brows together in wonder. "He came about an hour after you fell back asleep."

"He did?" The woman nodded once more.

_Damn,_ Uno glanced down at her boots, _I must have been _really_ tired if I slept through _that

"Rehearsals begin in two hours but usually I wake early enough to make certain everything in the opera house is in order," the older woman spoke, knocking Uno out of her thoughts. Uno raised her head to glance back at the woman across the room from her. "This gives me plenty of enough time to dress you appropriately."

Uno frowned. "Pardon?"

"You must change," said Madam Giry as she turned and lowered the hairbrush to her lap. She stared at Uno for a moment before adding in, "You can't expect to waltz around the opera house dressed like _that_."

Uno stood then and ignored the mild aches that bit at her conscious. She extended both of her arms out to the sides and glanced down at her body. "And what's wrong with this?"

The woman only stared at her briefly before standing up and heading towards her armoire. Uno raised her head, gazed into the floor mirror, and then frowned when she realized what the woman was referring too. Dressed in a tight black tank top, black marine pants with excess pockets down the sides of the legs, and shin-high, heavy marine boots; of course she couldn't go out in the late eighteen-hundreds dressed like this! Yet a confused part of her didn't think that _every_ woman wore dresses.

"I don't understand," she murmured. When she raised her head to the other woman she saw Madam Giry stepping up to her with a black dress folded over one arm and a black corset hanging off the other.

Her brows knit together in worry.

"Here," said Madam Giry as she placed the dress on the bed and held up the corset for Uno to see. "You will need to wear this."

"A corset?" Uno choked out. "Like hell I will!" A streak of fright flashed across Madam Giry's face and she lowered her gaze down to the corset in her hands.

"Uno," she said calmly, "I have asked you to watch what you say."

"I don't care!" Uno backed up a foot to get away from the woman and the corset. "I refuse to put on a corset!"

"But you must!"

"No!" Uno turned and backed away from the woman, heading towards the center of the room, her arms now keep the distance between both of them. "Why should I wear something to give me the illusion of what I already have?"

Madam Giry paused and tilted her head to the side. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look!" Uno grabbed the base her of tank top and lifted it up. She exposed the base of her chest to show the woman the amount of muscles hidden beneath the thin layer of fabric. "I don't need a corset if I don't have any _fat_ on me."

Madam Giry sighed. "Uno… it is the _only_ proper thing to do."

"_Fuck_ proper!" The woman gawked at her outburst but Uno ignored the stern face that soon covered the shock. "If I have to watch what I say, dress differently, _and_ change my personality because I _know_ people won't _accept_ me for it then _fuck_ it! I'm not changing who I am to better suit _other_ people!"

"Uno—I beg of you to _please_ calm down," she urged. "And I never stated you must change your personality. I only ask of you to watch what you say for a woman shouldn't be swearing as much as you do and it is only _right_ for a woman to be properly fitted into a dress."

"Which I'm not," Uno fought back with a smirk. She folded her arms across her chest as the older woman sighed in defeat.

"Not yet, you are. But this after noon, once rehearsals are over, I will take you to the boutique and have you fitted."

Uno's lips curved into a smirk. "With whose money?"

"Mine," said Madam Giry, standing her ground. "And you can repay me by dancing for my ballet in the future."

There was a seriousness to the woman's gaze that Uno dared to defy only a little part of her was saying no. She wanted to challenge Madam Giry further but she knew, deep down inside, that the older woman was right. If she wanted to go on fighting she wouldn't get anywhere so with an agitated sigh of defeat, she dropped her arms and hung her head.

"Fine," was all that Uno had mumbled out. Madam Giry nodded and raised her chin as she watched Uno slide off the tank top much the way a man would. Her brows knit together in weary at the black bra Uno had on.

"Might I ask," Madam Giry nodded and made a notion towards the cups covering Uno's breasts, "what that is?"

Uno's brows furrowed as she glanced down at herself. "What? My bra?"

"You must take that off to put on the corset."

Uno sighed loudly then began unhooking the bra from behind. "So be it," she grumbled out. When the bra was fully removed Madam Giry took in a sharp intake of air and gawked at the sight.

There, before her, stood a young lady, no older than seventeen and no younger than fifteen, her chest bare and her breasts full, muscle covering just about every inch of the girl's torso…

…and scars of the worst nature known to man.

"Good heavens, child," Madam Giry gasped. "What has happened to you?"

Uno frowned and glanced at the mirror. "What?" She asked. "What's wrong?"

The woman stood astonished. "You do not see?" Uno shrugged her shoulders. "You are covered in scars!"

"Oh that," Uno turned away from the mirror and covered her chest with her arms to shield her most visible scars and her breasts. "It's nothing."

"Nothing would be a simple scratch," Madam Giry stated. "Not discolorations and changes of the skin textures." She took a deep breath, raised her chin, and pointed to the pants Uno still had on.

Ignoring the fact that she was still naked from the waist up, Uno stepped up to one of the tables in the room and began removing the contents from each pocket. The top pockets held her wallet and her set of keys for the various automobiles she's driven, along with a few scraps of paper were she had notes written down. The knee pockets had her package of cigarettes, lighter, and two extra clips for her Colt. And finally, the ankle pockets held more handheld bullets, a mixture of shotgun shells, and more rounds to insert into the magazine for her handguns. Before finally turning around, she withdrew the Colt that had plastered itself to her back from behind her belt, well hidden by the tank top she only recently removed.

Madam Giry stood and gawked at all the ammunition Uno had on herself. When emptied entirely, Uno turned around to face the woman, cross her arms over her chest once again, and sighed.

"There… I feel much lighter now, anyways," she grumbled out.

"That did not discomfort you while you were resting?"

Uno shook her head then began unhooking the belt from around her waist. Once she was relieved of the belt, she knelt down and began unlacing both boots. Madam Giry watched in silence as Uno continued to undress herself, removing each article of clothing she had never seen before in her life. She placed a hand to her chest when she heard the _thump_ of one of the boots as Uno set it down on the floor.

"You were not fooling when you said you fought in a war," the woman murmured. Uno paused from removing her other boot and glanced up at her. "I can see that you were well prepared for battle."

Uno snorted then continued removing her clothes. When she was finally nude—save for her cotton, bikini lining panties—she crossed her arms back over her chest and stood once more.

"I supposed just as much," Madam Giry stated as she turned away and retreated to the armoire. "You can't wear a corset without the rest of the garnets. You will need much when we shop later."

Uno watched as the woman retrieved a thin, white dress from the armoire then returned and handed it out to her. Reluctantly, she accepted the dress and slipped it on over her head. One glance at herself in the mirror and Uno felt the change had already taken place; the last time she wore a dress she was little.

"Here," Madam Giry raised the corset and pressed it against Uno's torso. "I shall have to lace it up for you."

She nodded and let the woman do as needed. Uno raised her arms and wrapped her hands up with her own long braid to keep it out of the way from the corset. She could have sworn, as the woman tightened the knots on the damn thing, that her breath was slowly escaping her lungs.

"How do you breathe in this thing?" Uno stammered out. When the corset was finally tightened and no longer needing assistance, Madam Giry stood and glanced at the younger girl before her.

"You are to breathe through your chest," she replied. "Not your stomach."

"My chest?" Uno repeated, dropping the braid from her hands. Madam Giry nodded and turned to gather the dress from the bed. Uno glanced down and slowly closed her eyes as she felt the dress slip on over her head, through her arms, and fasten to her body. Not long after she felt the dress plastered to her skin did she feel the hands of Madam Giry scooping the braid out from the back of the neck.

"Open your eyes," she insisted, "Uno."

Uno opened her eyes and gazed at herself in the mirror. Her first instinct was to expect the same blood thirsty reflection to shine back but instead she saw a much younger version of Madam Giry staring back. Instead of the older and stricter face sat much rounder and fuller cheekbones and lips. In place of the lighter brown braid was a dark, mousy brown braid. The body appeared the same, due to the dresses, but the character staring back at her was much fuller and younger in appearance.

She actually _looked_ like a younger version of this woman!

"It's black," Uno murmured before smiling.

"You like black?" Madam Giry raised her chin.

Uno's smile transformed into a smirk. "I have some reasons."

"Very well. Now come, it is time to step out of this room and show you where you have been found." Uno turned and watched as Madam Giry began folding up the discarded clothes. "I supposed you do not wish to keep these now that you have no use for them?"

"No," Uno spat, "don't you dare trash them."

The woman paused and turned back to her with a frown. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't get rid of them," she warned through a growl.

"But Uno," she gasped out, "you can't expect to wear them again."

"I'd prefer not to burn them either. Just hold onto it until I find a place to store it on my own."

"And your… accessories?" Madam Giry nodded over to the discarded items Uno had removed from the pockets and placed on the table. "Do you wish to store those as well?"

"The gun especially," she said. She stared at the woman and took a deep breath before lifting her own chin in a sign of challenge. Madam Giry stared at her for a brief moment before nodding and placing the folded clothes on the table besides the rest of Uno's things,

"Very well," she said through a sigh. She turned and glanced one final time at Uno before heading towards the door. "Come let me show you around and please… watch what you say."

-

"Alyssandra, correct your footing!" Madam Giry roared out. She stepped before the ballet on the stage and knitted her brows as she turned away from the dancers on the right side and over towards those on the left. "Meg, leap more gracefully! Bridgett, you are not dancing on your toes! Gabbie, are you a ballerina or are you a dancer?"

Uno turned from watching the corpse de' ballet dance rehearsals towards the pit where Monsieur Reyer instructed a few corrections on the musicians. She smiled and relaxed more within the chair she was sitting. So far the morning proved to be rather humorous to her. Madam Giry showed her around the upper layers of the building and introduced her to Clement, a man who face looks just as pretty as a government figurehead. She met a few of the maids and the head seamstress, who insisted that she be taken down immediately for measurements. Thank God Madam Giry had declined the opportunity for the moment with excuses saying Uno was not yet ready to join the stage.

She had seen all over the building and been shown to the theater hall, which was highly adorned with beautiful golden statues of the Greek Gods and decorated with an abundance of various paintings from all over the walls to the ceiling. The seating was an array of lush red velvet chairs and hanging from the center of the enormous theater hall was a magnificent chandelier. Uno had to admit, it was a sight for talented artists from her time; no art in forty-five fourteen could _ever_ compete against the beauty the Opera Populaire held all on its own.

Just before she took a seat in the audience Uno turned to Madam Giry and asked whether the building had a basement beneath the grounds. The woman turned to her with as much fright on her face as a soldier being found out by their true intensions; she had looked nervous yet held her stiff posture and high air. She insisted to Uno that there were no lower levels of the Opera Populaire and Uno left the topic alone, knowing well that Madam Giry was hiding a secret.

After all, _all_ large buildings had a foundation large enough to house a few families.

"Perhaps we should reconsider their contracts," said a wondrous voice from the front of pit. Uno turned to see two gentlemen, dressed in suits with tails, standing before the pit, which was sat just before the stage.

"Yes," agreed the second. "It would assume that they do not realize the importance of this piece."

Uno frowned and turned back to the stage where Madam Giry had lost all but a little bit of her self control.

"That's it," she shouted before covering her face with her free hand; the other hand was still gripping her cane-stick rather tightly. "Take a break—everyone. I want you all to return in one hour and by then you all had better fix your footing. If not, and I do not see any difference, then there will be constant rehearsal until tomorrow's showing."

There was a brief commotion before Madam Giry hammered her cane on the floor of the stage and silenced everyone. Without a word, the ballet turned and dissipated from their current positions to wherever they decided to go. She turned and faced the two gentlemen.

"Madam Giry," the one with slick black hair and gray streaks perked up, "perhaps we may need to rethink a few of the contracts?"

Madam Giry raised her chin. "Are you implying on sending these girls back onto the streets or home to their families?"

The other—who was much shorter than the first and had blond hair—quickly chimed in. "Either that, lower their salary in demand for them to pay more attention?"

"Yes!" The first man proclaimed. "If they won't listen to you then perhaps a dramatic decrease in their pay will fix that."

"I believe we should just wait until next week when auditions are in act." Uno smirked at the woman's victorious attitude against the two opposing gentlemen. "Until then, I will keep _my _ballet as active as they need to be."

"Oh—good heavens, Andre," proclaimed the taller man. "What are we going to do?" He turned as if to express his agitation but paused when he noticed the new face in the audience. "Who on earth are you?"

Andre turned and noticed Uno as well. "Are you a ballerina, girl?" Andre asked.

"No," Madam Giry answered for them. Both Andre and the other gentleman turned to stare up at the ballet mistress and at the moment, Uno noticed Monsieur Reyer was paying attention as well. "She is not yet a ballerina."

"Then who is she?" The man asked. "You know we do _not_ allow an audience until the showing."

"And for free," Andre added in. Madam Giry stood her ground.

"Uno," she turned to the younger woman seated in the chair, who immediately sat up straight when she was called to attention. "Tell them what you told me last night."

"Excuse me?" Uno murmured out as she slowly stood up. "But I would like to know who I'm talking to before I say anything."

_And if they against me they won't be hearing anything I've got to say,_ she finished off mentally.

Madam Giry bowed her head. "Uno, this is Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin. They are the managers of the Opera Populaire. Monsieur Reyer, I believe, you have previously noticed, is the conductor."

Uno nodded her head and clasped her hands together behind her back. "I'm Uno Maxwell," she paused and turned to face Madam Giry before continuing. "I um… I came from America to become a ballerina and I took coverage from the rain in the building late last night."

Firmin turned to Madam Giry. "You have already met with this girl?"

"I have," she nodded, "and I must add in she has a wide list of references." Both men turned to Uno just then but Uno didn't notice; she was too busy staring at Madam Giry with alarm in her eyes.

_Shit!_ She kicked herself mentally. _Now they're going to _expect_ me to be good!_

She raised her chin and stared Madam Giry right back in the eyes. On the outside she showed determination and victory yet on the inside Uno was screaming the words Madam Giry had urged her to tone down.

"She does, does she?" Firmin repeated. "We will be looking forward to your audition at the start of next week."

Uno nodded slightly her reply. "Fine," she murmured out. Her lips pressed together into a thin line. Everything is moving fast and she _still_ had to adjust to the date change.

"For how many years have you been dancing?" Andre asked.

Uno took a moment to think and glanced off to the side. What should she tell them? The truth that she only danced for two years before she had to quit and prepare for the war?

"A long time," she finally replied. She turned back to stare at them. "I've been dancing for a long time but I've stopped for this past year."

"Why?" Firmin asked. "If you said you've been dancing for a long time then why did you stop for the last year?"

Uno gritted her teeth, searching frantically for an answer. She curled her fingers into fists and kept them hidden from anyone's line of vision. She felt all eyes on her, Madam Giry's, Monsieur Reyer, Andre, and Firmin, and a few others she couldn't quite point out.

_I hate it when these times occur! I usually just _shoot_ the person who gets too close to me!_ Uno knitted her brows together and glanced down at the floor.

"Sir," she paused and cleared her throat. "Do you two own the Opera Populaire?" Uno raised her head and saw the fright on all three gentlemen's faces; Madam Giry, however, remained as rigid as her normal self always appeared.

"I," Firmin swallowed just then, "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you the owner of the Opera Populaire or do you just run it as a manager?" Uno repeated herself. Monsieur Reyer gazed up at Madam Giry then back over to the two managers above him on the floor. Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back, signaling to them that she was in no way ready to allow them to be superior to her.

"Are you?"

"Why—no!" Firmin shot back, stunned. Uno turned and stared at Andre then up at Madam Giry's stern gaze. "We do not own the Opera Populaire."

She nodded then glanced down at Monsieur Reyer and noticed the fright etched on his eyes as well then turned back to Firmin. With a genuine smile forming on her lips, Uno rubbed the truth into their faces.

"Then it is not up to you to determine whether or not I will be permitted to join the Opera Populaire's cast and crew. After all, only being the managers you run the show and are certain the schedule is underway but you are not the one who is allowed the right to decline any contracts or sign any new one," Uno explained. "That is, unless, the owner has left those titles in your hands."

Uno could swear Madam Giry's eyes held humor within them but knew the woman would keep it in check. From the corner of her eyes, Uno noticed Madam Giry glancing down at the two managers.

"Am I correct or are you two given the rights?"

"N-no," Firmin stumbled out. "You're quite right. B-but the owner—h-he hasn't been around in _years_!"

"Well that isn't the matter now, is it?" Uno spat back as if she were spitting venom. She released the lock on her hands from behind her back and rested them on the sides of her body. Now everyone had a clear view of the fists she made with her hands as she continued to rub the truth into the faces of the two managers.

"If the owner of the opera isn't around to fulfill _his_ duties then the duties are left up to the second in command leaders," Uno snarled out. "_Which_, in this case, is Madam Giry, the ballet mistress!" Uno finished off by pointing an accusing finger at Madam Giry. The three men turned to her in silence before returning to Uno. "Or have I mistaken facility rules and lack the governmental knowledge it takes to run a measly opera?"

Uno's gaze darted between all four onlookers. Monsieur Andre gawked up at Monsieur Firmin, who in return, was staring wide eyed and mouth ajar at herself. Monsieur Reyer covered his mouth with a handkerchief and turned away, as if startled by something, and Madam Giry raised her head and glanced up at one of the boxes sitting on top of where Uno stood.

"Well?" Uno growled out. "Which is it?"

"I," Andre slowly turned to face Uno, "we understand where you are looking at things from but you must understand one thing… the owner of the Opera Populaire, he—"

"He agrees to give permission to her audition when she asks," Madam Giry cut in. She turned to glance at Uno and bowed her head. "He has agreed to give you the proper contract when desired."

"He has?" exclaimed both Monsieur Firmin and Andre. They gawked at Madam Giry before raising their heads and staring up at the box before Uno. Monsieur Reyer dabbed his forehead with the handkerchief and sighed. Uno turned and stared back at Madam Giry, nodding her head in agreement, and smirked.

"You won't be disappointed," Uno murmured out. She turned and stared at Firmin and Andre before reclaiming her seat. The two managers turned and stared at Madam Giry then gazed back up at the box before turning and leaving entirely.

Monsieur Reyer gaped over at Uno. "I take it you have a piece you would like to audition to?"

"I will by tomorrow," Uno smiled suddenly, which alarmed Monsieur Reyer of her sudden mood swings and capabilities of hiding her true feelings behind that charming smile of hers. "I'll hand you the music tomorrow after rehearsals and I'm sure your musicians will have finished learning it by Monday afternoon when I will give my audition." She turned to give Madam Giry a satisfied smile; the woman only knitted her brows together in worry before turning away to address the few of the corpse de ballet who had stayed behind for more practice in their off hour.

_Perhaps now they'll let me be,_ Uno pondered to herself. _Or else I will have to scoop up some information on them and blackmail to get what I want, since I can't put a gun to their heads and force it on them._

No sooner than Uno had come up with her plan had the ballerina's returned to the stage and rehearsals continued from before.

-

"That was a brave thing you did today, Uno," said Madam Giry as the seamstresses finished their measurements on Uno's body at the local Parisian boutique. Uno frowned and stared at the older woman through the mirror. "You have done what no other person dared to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why—you have shown bravery against Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre. No one else had ever dared to do such a thing and without a noble background you certainly had the aroma to know what to do."

"Oh that," Uno glanced down. "Yeah… I told you I've listened into a government meeting once."

"That you have," Madam Giry admitted, "but only once when you were a child."

Uno shrugged her shoulders and turned around, putting the mirror behind her. "Well… I learned fast," she lied. "What more did you expect out of me?"

"More?" Madam Giry gawked. "Child, I expected _less_ than what you have shown them!"

Uno's brows knitted together. "Huh?"

"Not even the viscount, Raoul de Chagny, or his brother, Counte Phillip de Chagny, had _ever_ done such a thing!"

"Well perhaps they should have," Uno blurted out. "Maybe then the idiots who run the Opera Populaire would have grown brains sooner than now."

Madam Giry bit her tongue and pressed her lips together. She turned away nodding and allowed the seamstress place different styles of dresses on Uno's body, showing Uno in the mirror what they would look like.

"I suppose you are right," Madam Giry finally said after a moment of contemplated silence. "However, they have both been warned dreadfully in the past and paid a heavy price for denying it." She turned back to see Uno frowning at each dress the seamstress had held up for her to see. "After all, you only just arrived and the Opera Populaire has been back up and running from the horrible tragedy that only took place three years ago."

"So the place has been practically a ghost house for three years?" Uno shoved the pink dress away from her body the moment it touched her skin. "I won't wear bright colors!" She snarled at the woman.

Madam Giry took in a deep breath and let it out as she said, "A ghost building, yes. It has _always_ been a ghost building but only recently the ghost has been allowed to stay."

"So who's the ghost?" Uno pondered and smiled at the deep green velvet dress the seamstress held up for her to inspect. "Anyone in particular?"

"To you, my dear, no. But to the managers he is a very important figure they cannot escape no matter how hard they continue trying."

"So they gave up fighting and claimed defeat?" Uno frowned. "How sad."

"You must understand, Uno," Madam Giry placed her hands on Uno's shoulders and turned the young woman around to face her eye to eye. "Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre… you touched a tender spot in their conscious today when you brought mention of the Opera Populaire's owner into discussion. Had you not seen the fright that was in their eyes?"

"I did," Uno admitted, "but I thought it was because of what I said."

Madam Giry shook her head. "No child," she explained, "they were not frightened for what you said but who you spoke about. No body has ever made them think of those things before, of what you have mentioned." Her voice lowered nearly to a whisper when she finished off with, "No one."

Uno stared the woman in the eyes before grinning and pushing away. "Fine," she stammered out. "So I helped the true owner—what's it matter to me? I got my point across, at least." Uno turned around and grabbed the dress out of the seamstress's hands, placed it next to her body, and cocked her head to the side.

"What are you doing to do about the audition? Are you well rested to go through with it?"

"Do I have a choice?" Uno mumbled back. She smiled and handed the dress back to the seamstress then turned back around to face Madam Giry. "I told Monsieur Reyer that I'll have music prepared by tomorrow."

"You will compose your own song?" The woman gawked.

Uno nodded. "And if he won't accept it then I'll ask to hand it directly to the owner."

"You do not know what you speak of, Uno," Madam Giry rushed out. "You're talking in terms that are nearly impossible to make happen."

Uno paused and stared into Madam Giry's eyes, her own eyes slowly narrowing as realization struck her right then. "You know he's still around," she murmured out, "don't you? You know things that you're hiding from even the managers, don't you?"

The woman sighed and nodded. "I do for everyone's own sake," she admitted. "Now please Uno, no more of this topic. I will say no more about composing your own piece to dance to so long as you do not press this subject."

"Fine," Uno barked out. "But be warned… what I said to Monsieur Firmin and Andre earlier are not the only political speeches I know how to speak."

Madam Giry breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded. She turned Uno around once more to face the mirror and picked up the discarded deep blue dress that Uno had recently agreed to buy.

"Very well," she breathed out. "But hurry up and chose your selections so we can reach the Opera Populaire before it gets dark. I don't know how safe life is where you come from but on the Parisian streets it can get pretty cruel at night."

A grin slowly transformed on Uno's face as she allowed Madam Giry to fit the dress to her body properly. "Excellent," she murmured out. The older woman regarded her for a brief moment before turning entirely away from the mirror and adjusted the backing of the velvet and lace dress. Madam Giry and Uno closed the conversation pertaining to anything that dealt with what happened at the Opera Populaire earlier that day.

Uno stared into her own eyes through the given reflection. _That is just perfect._


	3. Fatal Forces

_Yes I know, these chapters seem rather short. And know what else is short? The amount of people actually reading this fic! Come on, people! I thought Phantom of the Opera fans would die in glory at seeing a chick from another world entering the Phantom's realm! Guys, please help me out here... I don't want the trilogy of Duo's Child to end on a low amount of reviews when the other two topped the charts really well!_

_Please! Advertise this fic. What, did I put in TOO many notes at the start of the first chapter? I mean, can't people read or at LEAST skip over the notes despite my urging not to do such a thing? Jeeze... and I thought people liked Phantom of the Opera._

**Many Voices In My Head:** I would REALLY love to answer all your questions but I'll spill the story. But if you know the story of PotO (Phantom of the Opera) then you'll probably know the answer. I'm not telling you that you need to see the movie or read the books, however; I'm just afraid I can't answer those questions without spilling the story. Just stay tuned; the truth will be revealed in later chapters (actually, not so far off, to tell you the truth).  
**psychobunny410: **I still love your name. I'm thrilled you're getting into this crossover. Phantom of the Opera is a good movie (though there really _isn't_ anything like seeing it live on Broadway). Despite the crap out there made by the critics who say it's not a good movie view it for yourself if you want to and come out with your own ideas about it. But I've read both books (Phantom of the Opera and Susan Kay's book, Phantom, which is a retelling of PotO through the Phantom's eyes) and I know just about everything dealing with the story and film/play.  
**darkfairy88:** Yes and don't forget... Uno WAS a one-'man' soldier for about 3 years before she fell into that vortext that delivered her from the year AC 197 (After Colony 197), which I made up to be equal to our years known as 4514, to the year 1873. She's had extensive training in her life to become 'perfect' and so forth. You'll find out all that she can do as the story develops and her life is revealed to many, including a few 'secret' faces. So when she see's a new sight she's not ENTIRELY freaked out... she takes it into perspective through a soldier's point of view. And about the braid... well, that and a bunch of other things... you'll learn as time unfolds; even about each scar (and she's got THOUSANDS of scars all over her body).  
**Many Voices In My Head:** I didn't think to answer this for chapter 2 but... how do you see Madam Giry and Uno getting along just fine? I dunno... I guess it's that whole... rival/competition/challengable thing... perhaps that sister/sister relationship... who knows.

_Thank you ALL who have so far read this fic and reviewed. I hope more people will do the same soon, too. Please help me out by advertising! I mean, I even removed Duo's Child 3 from the title so people wouldn't think to have to read the other two first!_

_Also! If anybody wants to actually SEE her performance done EMAIL ME! PoeticallyGothic... it's an AOL account so... yeah... the clip is the final dance from the movie 'Save the Last Dance' so if you've seen the movie or own it, its the final performance dance the chick does to get into her school. In this fic... Uno made it all on her own--music as well. That's why I said in the disclaimers, I don't own a thing though I'll say my characters do. So if you wanna' see it, it's in pretty good quality (was high but... it extracted kinda funny) and it's only 4 megs so it shouldn't be a problem do send and download. I've already sent a copy to _psychobunny410_ and it worked well on what she considered a 'slow' computer so it should work fine on anyone else's!_

* * *

**- Chapter Three -**  
It was the following morning when Madam Giry tapped on the door to Uno's room. She stood outside in the hallway and waited until she heard a faint 'come in' from inside. Opening the door she noticed Uno still had yet to unpack her few belongings the two of them bought the night before. Frowning, she shut the door then glanced around and followed the adjacent room until she reached the desk in the far back corner where she spotted Uno sitting on a chair reading a book. 

"I've been taught almost everything in my life but I never been taught the game of Chess," Uno muttered before turning the page. "I'm a wiz at Checkers and I figured that if Chess is based off strategies then I should be able to get the hang of that game rather quickly."

"You haven't unpacked," Madam Giry said in a bit of shock. "Why not?"

Uno answered without even lifting her nose out of the book. "Because if I have an audition by Monday I don't think I should have to. Besides, I'll be getting another room and then I will unpack everything."

The woman nodded and cleared her throat. "I have come to tell you that rehearsals are going to begin in an hour and I would like for you to be present in the theater hall so you may meet the full cast and see what goes on during the final practice of the opera." Uno heard the woman but paid no attention to a needy reply. "Is that clear?"

"I hear you," Uno muttered. Her brows knitted together as she formed a smirk with her lips. "I never _did_ understand the meanings behind each Chess piece but I think I may get it now."

"Uno," the woman inhaled, "I would like for you to come with me."

Uno finally lowered the book and frowned up at the woman. "Where to?"

"I am not certain you have down the map of this building and I would not like for you to get lost and wind up in trouble of some sort."

Uno frowned in worry at the woman. "You don't think I know how to memorize anything?" She put the book down on the bed and stood up from the chair. "Fine, believe me to be stupid but I've memorized every_thing_ I've ever been taught. It's the reason I'm an achiever where I grew up."

"Please child," Madam Giry insisted, "I never claimed you to be stupid. I only don't feel you have yet recorded how to move about in this building. It can get rather tricky in some places, especially in those where it looks a hallway will turn and instead it doesn't."

Uno crossed her arms over her chest. "After exiting this door I take a right and travel down the long hallway of servant doors—which, I might add, has one to your name—then when I reach the intersection of two other halls I take another right then an immediate left and travel down another long hallway of servant doors, take another right then after about a short distance, I take a left and I reach the main hall where all the action takes place before the opera—as in, prop makings, dressing rooms, party halls, and so forth—then I continue down _that_ hall until I reach the main entrance _or_ I can take a right beforehand and enter the backgrounds of the stage or the theater." Madam Giry stared at her in silence. "And if I took any other hall I would wind up in either the Chapel, the Stables, or another hall dedicated to the servants of the building."

"S-servants?" The woman muttered out. "We are not considered servants, Uno. We get paid to do the work."

"Servants do to," Uno fought back. She shrugged her shoulders then glanced down at the floor. "But fine—call yourself what you like. I don't care, anyways. I'll become a ballerina pretty soon where I'll have to room with several others in a dorm and share a dressing room with each."

Madam Giry's brows knitted in weary. "You do not wish to share rooms?"

"I'd prefer to be by myself," Uno replied casually. She faced the older woman before stifling a weak smile. "What can I say—I have secrets that are quite… noticeable."

The woman nodded her head in agreement. "I can understand _that_." She glanced over to the bed and noticed it had been untouched. "You," Madam Giry glanced back at Uno with worry in her eyes, "haven't slept?"

"I don't normally sleep much and when I do it's but a few hours. But don't worry," Uno stepped away from the chair and towards the center of the room. She spun around and sent a charming—yet it still managed to send shivers down Madam Giry's spine—smile. "I won't fall asleep during the rehearsals. Instead, I'll be busy writing something."

"Writing?"

"That is," Uno paused and glanced away, "if I can ask for some paper and something to write with."

The woman shook her head. "I shall have those items delivered to your room but you can't use a pen and ink bottle anywhere except for a desk."

Uno sulked. "It's those kinds of materials?" The woman nodded and Uno hung her head. "Great," she whimpered. "I got dropped into a year where they didn't even know how to make ball point pens yet."

"Ball point pens?" The woman repeated. Uno waved her hand in the air to signal the woman to forget it.

"Never mind it," said Uno with a sudden smile on her face. "Just forget I even spoke that."

"Very well," the woman nodded her head. "I shall leave you for now. I have stored your belongings in a box and hid it in my room. Should you ever wish to view them just ask and I will allow you to do so but I will not let you take them into your own hands for fear of the managers finding out."

Uno frowned in worry. "How would they know?"

"The ballet girls," said Madam Giry with a hint of pity to her voice. "They tend to get a bit… messy, and pry into another person's personal life."

Uno felt agitation run through her veins. "You mean nosy with gossip?" The woman nodded. "Fine, then I'll let you keep them for now."

The woman nodded once again then raised her chin. "I will see you in about an hour." Uno watched as she made her exit then returned to face the book she had recently discarded.

She took a deep breath and returned to the chair. She took a moment to stare at the bed and contemplate what's happened since the night she woke in the woman's room then shook her head of any oncoming thoughts and gathered the book back up.

"Fuck it," Uno murmured to herself. "I don't need to bother thinking about what happened. For all I know, I'm in Limbo, wandering about until Heaven or Hell claims me."

_Though… I know Heaven won't accept me for what I've done and I'm still not guilty enough to be sent to Hell._

-

The theater was busy with action when Uno arrived there about an hour after the ballet mistress departed from her room. Monsieur Reyer and the musicians were in the pit warming up for the rehearsals and on stage the ballerinas were stretching. She took a seat in basically the same chair in the audience from the day before and watched as several new faces stepped onto the stage then left in haste.

"Where are my managers," shouted the woman in the front of all the action. Uno noticed the woman was encased in just about every jewel known to man and dressed with bright colors of all sorts of fabrics. The headdress, alone, was tall enough to give the woman at least a few more _feet_ of height as the jewels gave her weight.

"I wish to speak to my managers!" Uno winced at the woman's voice. The tone of it was amazingly sharp and needy. She _did_ notice, however, the accent of the woman was Italian and thankfully Uno knew enough Italian to make out the curses the woman spoke beneath her breath.

"What is it you wish to speak to them for?" Monsieur Reyer pondered in fear. "They are in the office going over the seats that were sold."

"I have been told my contract might be up after the next opera and I want to know _why_!" Uno winced again.

_Damn this bitch need to quit talking before my ears start to bleed!_

"I will be certain they renew your contract, Madam," Monsieur Reyer assured. "But right now we do not have much time left."

"Fine," the woman barked back. "But I wish to know the reason for this—" She noticed Uno sitting in the audience. "And _who_ is that?"

All eyes turned to Uno right then. Uno swallowed the frightened lump that stuck in her throat at being spotted in such a way. Monsieur Reyer's brows knitted together in worry for the woman might send her away despite Madam Giry's urges.

"Who are you girl?" The woman barked out. "I don't like viewers to watch before the opera and if you're going to I'd like for you to pay!"

Uno gritted her teeth together and balled her fists. "Incompetent _bitch_!" she seethed out. "I'll kill her one day!"

"What was that?" The woman sneered. "I heard you say something—what did you say about me?"

"She is of none of your concern," Madam Giry intervened. The woman turned and pressed her lips together to keep from speaking. Madam Giry stepped up to the end of the stage and twirled her cane around.

"She is a ballerina from America and will be auditioning this Monday."

The woman narrowed her eyes over at Uno. "I wish to know what you said about me!" Madam Giry turned and noticed the aggression in Uno's eyes. "Well?"

"That'll be enough," Madam Giry intervened once more. "Leave her be, Carlotta. She has done no harm to you."

_Carlotta,_ Uno repeated into her memory.

"Uno," Madam Giry turned to her, "this is our diva, La Carlotta."

Carlotta stood proud at the mention of her name then narrowed her eyes and sneered the new ballerina. "I won't be spoken of by a ballet _rat_!"

Uno bit her tongue hard to keep from speaking back. Madam Giry eyed her, as well, to remind her of the importance of the matter.

_I'll get you, Carlotta,_ Uno berated to herself mentally. _Make no doubt that I will see your wretched body burn in Hell for speaking to me like that._

Madam Giry frowned as if she knew what Uno were saying silently then turned away and began addressing the corps de ballet. Carlotta returned to Monsieur Reyer and commanded him to begin the music. No sooner than Uno had regained her composure had the music began to play and the ballet began to dance.

Then Carlotta began to sing.

_What the fuck!_

Uno cringed at the song the woman sang. The notes were horribly off key, the tone she used was strained to perfection, and her vocals were enormously powerful. If the woman were to sing in key with the correct usage of her lungs she would be outstanding. But instead, she killed the music she sang to and Uno had never heard anything worse than Carlotta's voice.

Not even the sounds of an explosion going off next to her face and _that_ deadly!

She closed her eyes and tried to keep from passing out. If the woman kept singing like this then Uno knew for a _fact_ that she'd faint at each opening. She wouldn't be able to dance to someone like this singing! She'd more than likely die from it, instead!

"Oh come on," Uno murmured. "They've _got_ to find somebody better than her to sing these parts."

Thankfully the song was still going on because Uno knew if Carlotta had heard there would be Hell to pay.

_And I have to _sit_ through this?_

Carlotta hit another high note, causing Uno's jaw to lock in place as she continued to grit her teeth. She clenched her fists tightly and seethed out a threat to no one but herself.

"Madam Giry… this is _war_ should you make me listen to her again."

-

That night, while the audience was filing into the theater, Uno spotted Madam Giry in the midst of the ballet and waited to catch her attention. The woman was busy inspecting each girl's costume with the seamstresses besides her. When she saw Uno she nodded her head and made her way through the crowd.

"What is it, my dear?" She asked when she pulled Uno to the side of the hall.

"I'm not attending the opera tonight."

Madam Giry frowned. "Why not?"

"I'll be doing something else."

"I think it would be best for you to see what an opera looks like before you join the ballet," she insisted. "What would you rather be doing?"

"Saving my ears," Uno bit back sarcastically. Madam Giry had to stifle a smile at that.

"I've noticed your ears are attuned to another kind of music?"

"Yeah and I'd rather not kill them while I'm still young."

The woman glanced over to a few of the ballerinas off in the distance. "What would you do when you dance in the ballet? Tune her out?" She tuned back to Uno. "You won't be able to hear your cue if you tune her out."

"I don't live off cues and schedules," Uno told her. "I live off of the way things are formed and in order. I go one step at a time, never missing a beat, and I'm certain to make sure each step is correct before moving onto the next."

"So you think you can handle it?"

Uno nodded. "I've done worse things in my childhood."

Madam Giry sighed. "Very well," she breathed out. "But I expect you to know how to focus."

Uno smirked. "And I expect everyone _else_ to know how to mind what they say towards me." Madam Giry's brows creased in wonder. "I tend to give them reasons to talk."

"Well you should watch what you do then," she insisted. "But if you wish, I will see you tomorrow then for after the opera it may get a bit busy and crowded."

"I'll stay inside then," Uno said with a smirk. Madam Giry nodded then turned and retreated down the hall. Uno watched her for the moment before turning away and returning towards her room.

"Besides," she mumbled out casually, "I wouldn't want to give my presence away just yet."

Once inside her room she found the parchment and writing utensils she had previously asked for and immediately sat down. It took her only a few minutes to figure out how much to dip the tip into the ink bottle and how to maneuver the 'pen' along the 'paper', but after she succeeded she used her trial page as a ruler and began drawing the staffs of her music sheets. Once that was completed, she sat the pen back down on the desk and frowned.

_Now how did it begin?_

Uno pondered for a few moments and closed her eyes, replaying the night of her first and final performance when she had done ballet in the past. She had several performances in her two years experience but they were more of tests for what she was taught. Her _actual_ performance, that she had to come out with on her own, was what she had wanted to do for her audition. In her youth she had heads turned in her direction and gossips have ceased to form about her. She managed to stun several Fine Art's directors from a multitude of universities and even half of the political faces that have watched her grow up.

_If I did it once,_ Uno opened her eyes and stared down at the make-shift music sheets. _I can do it again._

The music from her performance began to play in her head and slowly but surely Uno began jotting down the notes of one instrument in particular. With the weekend free to do her composing she would have the five minute song finish in perfect condition. Until then, each instrument on its own would have to do until she was able to combine all parts together to make the director's piece.

_The only thing I'm hoping for at this moment,_ Uno continued a gradual increase of the drums to the next staff, _is that they're not _too_ shocked at what my dance contains._

And that was far true compared to anything she had ever spoken about. In her youth the dance was filled with an upbeat tempo of the typical ballet but as soon as the beginning was over with and the music really began, a more dramatic effect happened. The dance became a mixture of common club techniques that she learned through watching music videos and the trashy movies shown on television and each technique that she displayed showed another sign of her flexibility and capability. The only reason she even _won_ the performance competition was because she was open to a wide arrangement of ideas and techniques, proving that she wasn't afraid to change the _normal_ ballet to a different, more modern and upbeat form.

And _that_ was the _exact_ reason she had chosen that piece. She _had_ to win everything she competed in and without that piece she knew she wouldn't have won at all.

-

For the next two days, while the theater was inactive with their rehearsals, Uno remained in her room and worked on composing the music she'll need for her performance. The only time she ever left her room was when she was certain nobody would be around. When it was late and everyone was asleep, she snuck into the kitchens to find something to eat; she stole enough food to hold her over until the following night when she would do the same thing, steal just another few slices of bread and a small container of water. She didn't take much; just enough to sustain her health and make certain no traces would be left.

Madam Giry made no attempt at looking for her, knowing full well that Uno would rather be left alone to complete her piece. The ballerinas who _have_ seen her forgot that she had even existed. La Carlotta acted as if Uno had never even existed. And the mangers entirely forgot that an unused person was staying in the building.

Then Sunday night rolled into play and Uno finally pushed the finished composition away from her. She blinked her eyes to clear up the blur and stared down at the floor. She completed the music and the director's piece earlier that day but she kept returning to the sheets and inspected it until perfection, to make _certain_ that it was right and won't mess up.

_Now all that's left is the dance._

She wasn't even sure if she could dance to the piece anymore. The last time she danced to it was about seven years ago; she hasn't even _practiced_ after the performance! But she knew it had to be done; she knew that without practicing she wouldn't even be certain if she could stand on her toes.

And yet, it was Sunday night and Monday afternoon she would have to audition for everyone.

"What else is new?" She grumbled as she pushed to a standing position and stretched. Her bones popped back into place as she flexed her muscles and Uno could swear she heard a few joints replacing themselves. She lowered her arms and sighed.

"It's not like I have anything better to do."

Certain that nobody was watching her, Uno left her room, locked the door with the use of a few bobby pins she found laying around—since Madam Giry never bothered to give her a key—and headed towards the theater. The hallways were as dark as black and she wouldn't be able to make it to the theater in this condition; she headed towards the kitchen instead.

_Thank God I know enough of this place by memory,_ she said silently. _Else I'd wind up bumping in the wall or wander around, oblivious until I bump into somebody else._

And she knew she didn't need _that_ on what little of an innocent conscious she still had to her name. Uno managed to find the kitchen without any struggling and after picking the lock she stepped inside. There was a tiny candle lit in the middle of the room, on top of one of the counters, and picking it up she guided herself towards the cupboards where the extra gas lamps were stored. She took one out of the cupboard, lit it, then returned the candle to the exact spot she found it on and left the kitchen.

Now with the ability to see—though she had to dim the light down to the point it was still a struggle—she headed towards the theater and stepped up to the stage. There was a wooden chair set on the side of the stage and thankful that it wasn't bolted to the floor Uno knew it would support her weight to complete the dance. The front drapes were left open but the backdrop of the play they just completed was still hanging. It was as good enough a shield from whoever was behind it for the colors were black and navy, simple enough to hide any light showing through from either side.

_Okay Uno,_ she pressed her lips together and placed the lamp down on the stage near the stairs, lighting up the steps incase anybody were to watch her from them. _This won't be the _first_ time you've performed on stage. You've done many things on stage. You've had knives thrown at your face, you've had to dance to music in competition, and you had to sing._

"I can do this again," she chanted softly, whispering the words that had once given her hope against the war. She stood in the center, balled her fists weakly on the sides of her body, and closed her eyes. "And no body's watching so I have nothing to fear."

Uno took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and kicked her slipped off her feet. She shoved them towards the lamp, which she had made certain was bright enough to see the entire stage through a faint dim but also dark enough to shield her from anyone in the audience. She raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and played the music in her mind.

The first few moves were simple, as they were just quick strides towards one side of the stage. The next were where her footing would switch to different martial art's stanzas and her arms would only sway seductively to keep her balanced in accordance. After that she slid towards one side of her stanzas, her arms angled at the opposite, and swayed her body in the 'snake' dance move away towards another. After those moves, which were followed by a few more martial art's stanza switches, she began her _actual_ ballet dances and spun around in a spiral-like twirl.

However, her ankle twisted and she collapsed to the floor.

"Fuck!" Uno seethed as she grabbed her ankle and massaged it. "God I'm out of shape for this shit." She sighed and hung her head, taking the moment to massage her ankle and gather her composure. She _had_ to complete the dance or else she would forever remain in the distant shadows of what she always feared. She _had_ to be perfect.

She was _never_ anything _but_ perfect in all her life and she wasn't about to start now.

"Fuck it," Uno forced through clenched teeth and a growl. She pushed up. "If I have to I'll practice before I attempt it again but I _won't_ give up until I have it down!"

When she regained her composure and stood back up, she began her practices by twirling in place then twirled as she strode towards a side of the stage. After she reached her destination, Uno slowed her twirl until she spiraled in an open fashion—which helped practice a certain dance move at the end of her performance—and stopped when she raised one leg in the air and touched the toes that remained on the stage. After that was complete, she began pacing towards the other side of the stage and halfway there she leaped into the air and performed her once-famous, graceful, swan leap; she landed without a struggle and twirled some more. As she finished her final twirl she raised herself onto her point techniques and finished her dances and extra twirls in that matter.

When she finally finished her practice, she felt much better and believed she was able to begin her performance once more. She returned to the center of the stage and just to be certain of her flexibility, she did a back flip very slowly, bent her back at the angle where most people considered her 'spineless', and pulled herself back up once she completed her task. She smirked and set herself to try the performance once more.

It was nearly three in the morning when she was satisfied with herself. Uno stopped and glanced down at her feet and frowned; her toes her sore but there were no blisters or blood. It was amazing, to say the least, that she could dance without any shoes on her feet for about five hours, but she wasn't ready to beam at the matter. She had a little over five hours to get rest and prepare for the morning when she would have to perform that entire dance in front of the managers, ballet mistress, and the musicians.

_And most likely everyone else,_ she added in mentally. Uno slid her feet back into the slippers, wincing at the stinging of her toes touching anything other than the cold floorboards of the stage, and picked up the gas lamp. She took one last look at the stage and the audience before turning towards the door that would spill out into the hallways.

She froze when a shadow moved on her right. Brows knitting together, Uno stared into the darkness and called out softly.

"Who's there?" No answer. "If anyone's there then tell me or forever have coward dubbed to your name!"

Still she received no answer but she could have _sworn_ she heard a soft chuckle. She pushed out a breath of air and muttered beneath her breath.

"This place has too many secrets," she murmured while turning back around to face the door. She heard the same soft chuckle—this time it sounded as if it were coming from the stage rather than from the box seats above. Uno rolled her eyes and stepped into the hallways, thankful that whatever had just laughed at her was left behind in the theater.

_I'll make sure whatever laughed at me won't laugh at me anymore when I'm finished with my audition,_ she threatened silently. _And if it does it'll be the last laugh it'll ever make._


	4. Silent Approaches

_Whew... I'm SO happy there's more of you out there who are reading this. THANK YOU ALL AND THANKS TO THOSE WHO HAVE HELPED ME GAIN MORE! I couldn't be more pleased. :_

_Review time!  
_**psychobunny410:** nah... she's not skiddish... entirely... don't forget, she's still expecting this all to be some weird dream that Synodd had put her through (Synodd is the enemy from the war, which will be explained in later chapters). She's also unsure about her territory and has yet to meet everyone. Those she had already showed they hated her (minus Madam Giry) and she knows that when she meets everyone else, she WILL have enemies (as she did in grade school--again, this will be later explained).  
**Many Voices In My Head:** She doesn't sing because it brings her back from the past and that was her phrase: _"What's in the past belongs in the past--leave it alone."_ She doesn't want to be reminded of who she coulda been had the war never happened. And you say you can forsee conflicts... (evil snicker) you have _no_ idea... mwuahahaha! And yes... like the title goes, she is OBSESSED with having to be perfect. You'll see why, again in later chapters, she even agreed to be taught ballet in the past. It was challengable to her. She didn't know how to do it and she would rather learn than have something she never knew (like her playing Chess). Thanks to her mother, a Sarah Cleaver no body ever met except for dream chapters back in Duo's Child 1, she's just LIKE her mother, a over achiever, perfectionist, who has to get EVERYTHING finished before moving on, each thing has to be PERFECT and correct, and she has to know EVERYTHING about everything! Say she's gifted, I say she's a deity... she's got more brains then a government figurehead (which Uno proved in Duo's Child 1 when she insulted half the government--and will soon do it again and not know it). Stay tuned to figure out about the romance twinge... this new guy will be a shocker, to say the least.  
**danilion:** Yes, this is three years after the fall of the chandelier. This chapter explains everything you're looking for, but basically after the fall of the first prime state of the Opera Populaire things changed. Enjoy the read.  
**darkfairy88:** I like that a lot... soldier mode... very true... XP Lol! The only time I'll ever even mention Duo or Justin or Ricky or Theresa will be in far later chapters when Uno's explaining her past or when she mumbles it in her sleep. The poor girl talks in her sleep at times... Though if people were to contemplate it long enough, they could figure out who Duo is, considering it says in the title, 'Duo's Child'... so yeah. (shrugs) I have to explain her out because this genre is Phantom of the Opera, not Gundam Wing, and many PotO (Phantom of the Opera) fans are reading this and never read Duo's Child 1 or 2 before. Yes, it made sense... and you made me laugh a lot, too. XP Her entire life is sad, since she was always in a war and never knew it until later.  
**Bladestar:** Yes... her audition will spark even MORE comments about her but at the same time, they will be astonished at what she can do. This chapter alone shows what one person thinks of her talent. The way I have Uno meeting with the phantom is entirely normal for who she is and normal for who he is... if that makes anysense. As usual, she doesn't get along with people when she first meets them so... yeah... imagine the Goddess of Death and the Angle of Hell co-existing together.  
**Bex:** You only WISH you knew what I have in store for this poor girl... hehehe. I'm so evil it's GREAT! If you read Duo's Child 1 and 2 be my guest. As I explained in the disclaimers, which I hope everyone has read, DC1 is her life growing up, DC2 is her life in the war, and DC3 is about her trying to get back out in the world again, AFTER the war. This chapter shows what the 'owners' reaction is going to be.

_Dude... that's a lot of returns... and not all of them are for chapter 3! Anywho... here's the chapters most of you all are waiting for. Enjoy the read and to those of GW who followed me here, you'll learn PotO through this chapter, I hope, at least._

* * *

**- Chapter Four -**  
He put down the pen and glanced away from his composition for the first time in three days. The music that had forced itself into his mind and gotten stuck was finally gone, written down in parchment, and free from his mind. His fingers were sore but it wasn't anything he's struggled to deal with in the past. He's had far worse times than this and his opera house was one to prove. 

Turning away from his organ entirely, Erik took a good long look at the cave he called his lair, the dungeon he called his home. Since the mobs had come and raided his abode he's had to refurbish everything and start over. His organ has been demolished and torn to pieces, his bed had been stolen—along with much of his other belongings—and his art and music had been ripped to shreds, burned to ashes, or taken in haste. There really wasn't a single thing in his home that had lived past the tragedy three years ago.

_Three years ago… it seemed so long ago._

Erik took a deep breath and shut his eyes, remembering when the Opera Populaire had last been in it's prime and ran with efficiency, before those two pesky managers had taken it and torn the beauty of it away from the rightful hands of its owner. He has always been the owner of the Opera Populaire since the day he built it. While World War One was active on the surface of the planet and the opera house was used as refuge an shelter for those in need he stayed hidden beneath ground, in the cellars, the basement, and continued to build to his heart's delight. When the war finally ended he found he rather liked hiding in the dark and continued to finish the building until he felt it was entirely complete. It was his masterpiece, his artistic domain, and he wasn't about to let anyone snatch it away from his hands.

When the two new managers, Andre and Firmin, entered the building and took over the task of managing the facilities he thought things would continue to run rather smoothly. He expected his salary of twenty-thousand francs to continue being delivered to his box, which he also expected to remain empty for his use, and figured the two fools would better run the staff than the previous managers.

Boy was he sure wrong.

Not only had the managers ceased to pay him his salary and leave the box open for _him_ alone, but they played pitiful remarks against his existence, saying that he was nothing more than a mindless topic started by the ballet rats. They called anybody who believed in the tales of the Opera Ghost an obsessed fool and should be put away for good. It wasn't until they began messing with _his_ personal decisions that things started to get a little messy.

He had grown tired of listening to La Carlotta's voice for the last time. She was singing 'Think of Me', a piece that would be remarkable had the voice not scratched at the notes with bare nails. He had warned the managers one before that if she were to continue singing in his building she should better train her vocals or forever be damned to Hell. And as usual the managers disobeyed his orders and allowed her to remain on stage.

_She is as good an actor as everyone else and the worst voice to sing I have ever heard,_ he contemplated.

He had shown how tired he was of listening to her kill the ears of the listeners by sending a backdrop to crash on top of her, which in her favor, saved her the humiliation of losing her fame in the near future. She had threatened to leave and Christine Daae had taken her place soon after; the young ballerina had shown brilliance in the music and the managers had found an immediate taking to the young vocalist.

_And why should they not?_ He smiled and opened his eyes to stare down at the lake that served as the front door to his cave. _I trained her from when she was a child._

For years he has been the ghost her father once promised her, the Angel of Music. He had taught her how to sing, using his ventriloquist talents and sounding as if he were coming from everywhere at once. He trained her far into the night in her dressing room and when she slept he sang into her dreams, to comfort her. He was there as a guide and her guardian; should anything harmful come to her he would make sure that harmful 'substance' would no longer bother her.

When she sang 'Think of Me' he felt as if he had found the reason to live. He tried to steal her away from the world and keep her, to help complete his music, for all he lacked was the feminine voice to sing the parts. He would have done so had he not had a rival, the viscount.

That bloody boy had stolen the only bit of happiness he had ever known!

He spent several months trying to seduce Christine and keep her from the world. He had done things he never thought he would have ever done in his entire lifetime. But when the final approach had neared he realized all too late what he did and released her, praying she would return to him but knowing, deep down inside, that she wouldn't.

When La Carlotta' learned about her new understudy she grew hasty and threatened to leave the opera. The foolish managers begged to keep her, fearing that if her famous title were to flee from the stage of their opera house then the audience would cease to fill up. They groveled at her feet, bought her expensive things to keep her around, and practically lied through their teeth to keep her happy enough to remain in their contracts; of course, being dubbed the most beautiful and talented diva of all times had turned her from leaving and gotten her to stay.

When the managers had disobeyed his direct orders to place Christine Daae as the lead diva and La Carlotta as the muted dancer _and_ allowed his box to be used—unfortunately by Christine's love, the Viscount Raoul de Chagny—he had had the last straw. He had interrupted the act and frightened the masses, hinting to the managers that he was, in fact, a real legend and not a myth _and_ that he was serious and not mocking their position. Carlotta began to croak like a toad—which had him laughing in the background of the theater—and when the managers had insisted that the cast were changed to complete the act for the opera, since Carlotta couldn't sing hence she'd croak, he took another thought into action.

Erik turned away from the lake and stared into the flickering flames of a candle that sat on one of the candelabras near his desk. The head stage handler, Joseph Buquet, was getting too close to knowing who the Opera Ghost was and spreading far too many secrets that only the Opera Ghost and Madam Giry knew about—and it liked to keep it that way. He had chased the man all across the platforms of the stage, all over the rafters above the ballerinas who danced and twirled. He had taunted the poor man and stalked him, followed him, and trapped him. When he gained enough on the man's trail he had shaken the rafter to trip the man then had strangled him with his noose—or as Joseph referred to it in the stories he told the ballet rats, his 'magical lasso'.

In the middle of the twirling ballerinas Joseph's body fell from the rafters and hung in the midst of the stage. It frightened _millions_: the ballet—for they were _right_ there!—the entire staff, the managers—for the managers then realized that the Opera Ghost wasn't joking—the entire audience, and even those who never attended the opera that night—they found out through the papers that were delivered the next morning.

Erik figured that after killing Joseph—which wasn't even _near_ the first man he had ever killed—the managers would begin to obey him but he was once more wrong. The two fools only made things worse. Erik was fed up with their actions and intervened their New Year's ball to discipline everyone, threatening the managers, Carlotta and her husband—who was the second lead singer of the stage—and even Christine with his sword. He gave them all his opera that he had written for them, knowing the truth that it would be the final act the building would ever know, and then made his escape. The viscount had chased him but Madam Giry had stolen her way inside his lair and saved the boys life.

When the opera was performed it went smoothly but at the end, Christine had spilled the truth about the Opera Ghost—the Phantom of the Opera—and it had startled millions more than Joseph's death had; she had ripped away his mask and wig. Erik was not entirely all too pleased and carried on the final act of the opera on his own. He snatched her away from the stage, cut the rope the chandelier was hanging by, and dropped hundreds of feet into the pit of his dungeon where no one ever saw her again.

At least not until _Raoul_ came to claim her.

He had fire explode through the windows of the building, he had killed several with the fall of the chandelier, and he even had his own masterpiece burning in hell, the Opera Populaire.

"If I can't run my theater then _no one_ would!" He had told Madam Giry months later when she returned to the basement to check up on his existence. "I have _built_ this theater from scratch with my _own_ two hands and I will _not_ see it stolen away in the hands of two fools!"

The poor woman has been through so much in her life. She had saved him from several raids in the past, defended him, kept his secrets and kept _him_ a secret, and even obeyed his orders—which, he had to admit, were quite dangerous. When she told him that Andre and Firmin were going to rebuild the theater and agreed that, if the Opera Ghost were still alive, they would not disobey him any more and do exactly as he asks. Erik was weary at first but seeing how trust-worthy Madam Giry was to the manager's new plans he agreed to allow their actions to continue. He continued to receive his full payment of twenty-thousand francs, which were delivered to his _private_ and _always_ kept empty for his use, box five, and any further orders he had to express the nature of they would obey.

And like in the past, it was Madam Giry who he had delivered the messages that would be read to the staff and managers.

Erik closed his eyes and smiled. He had _always_ been the owner of the Opera Populaire and _finally_ the two fools have realized it and 'allowed' it to continue. He was afraid they would continue on disbelieving him and disobeying his orders but at last they have finally admitted he existed and he _owned_ the building; after all, he built the masterpiece and it was only right that it remained in _his_ hands until he felt it was ready to be delivered to somebody else.

"I think it is time to watch more of the rehearsals," Erik said as he stood up and stretched his arms. He flexed his muscles then relaxed them and headed for the boat that sat at the edge of his domain. The only way to reach his lair would be to cross the lake that had flowed beneath the Opera Populaire from the Sienna River; when they built the building in the past they had to drain the lake and build around it, creating five levels of the basement to keep the foundation from ever collapsing and the building from ever falling apart.

He stood on the boat and pushed off with the rod, soon directing his way towards the other side of the lake. Once he reached it he stepped off the boat, propped the rod up against the wall, and headed down one of the many halls that traveled up towards the building; the one he took lead directly towards box five.

Erik sat down and adjusted his cloak to better fit around his body in a more comfortable fashion. The ballet was currently undergoing extreme punishment from Madam Giry and Erik couldn't agree more. They were dancing as if they had never been on stage before!

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Some of them weren't even dancing the correct _steps_!

"Perhaps we should reconsider their contracts," said Monsieur Firmin.

"Yes," agreed Andre. "It would assume that they do not realize the importance of this piece."

Erik's brows knitted together in worry. He wouldn't appreciate sending these ballerinas home so suddenly. After all, most of them had only _just_ begun dancing and they were still nervous about the legendary Opera Ghost invading their every move.

"That's it!" Madam Giry shouted. She commanded a break and turned away from the ballet before she lost more of her temper. Erik smirked; the poor woman needed a vacation but without her his ballet would become a failing achievement.

"Madam Giry," said Firmin, "perhaps we may need to rethink a few of the contracts?"

"Are you implying on sending these girls back onto the streets or home to their families?" Madam Giry said with an air of determination. Erik stifled a smile at her strict posture despite her exhausted state.

Andre perked up, noticing the topic was rather dramatic for the older woman to listen to. "Either that, lower their salary in demand for them to pay more attention?"

"Yes!" Firmin agreed with a snap of his fingers. "If they won't listen to you then perhaps a dramatic decrease in their pay will fix that."

"I believe we should just wait until next week when auditions are in act," Madam Giry demanded. Erik chuckled; the woman knew how to stand her ground. "Until then, I will keep _my _ballet as active as they need to be."

"Oh—good heavens, Andre," Firmin shouted out. "What are we going to do?" He turned around and paused. "Who on earth are you?"

Erik's brows furrowed as he glanced down at the audience. He was amazed as much as his mangers were for not noticing the black dress that sat among the red velvet chairs. She had on one of the dresses he realized were Madam Giry's and for a moment he almost thought she _was_ Madam Giry, though a much younger form. Her brown hair trailed down the back of the chair in a long braid like the ballet mistress and she had the same stiff posture the older woman had when called to attention.

Andre turned and faced her. "Are you a ballerina, girl?"

"No," Madam Giry answered for them. Erik glanced over at the woman before returning to the young girl in the audience. From where he sat, she looked no more than fourteen. "She is not yet a ballerina."

"Then who is she?" Firmin declared over at the woman. "You know we do _not_ allow an audience until the showing."

"And for free," Andre added in. Madam Giry raised her chin and turned towards the girl.

"Uno," she called out. The girl glanced over at the ballet mistress and straightened her back. "Tell them what you told me last night."

"Excuse me?" She had replied. Erik managed a smirk at the tone of her voice; she had sounded irritated. Uno stood up from the chair and stared back at the managers as she spoke back with a warning to her voice. "But I would like to know who I'm talking to before I say anything."

_Smart girl,_ Erik said to himself.

Madam Giry bowed her head and extended an arm towards the managers. "Uno, this is Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin. They are the managers of the Opera Populaire. Monsieur Reyer, I believe, you have previously noticed, is the conductor."

Uno bowed her head and locked her hands together behind her back. Erik noticed her fingers were fidgeting together. "I'm Uno Maxwell," she replied in a voice softer than earlier. "I um… I came from America to become a ballerina and I took coverage from the rain in the building late last night."

Firmin turned to Madam Giry. "You have already met with this girl?"

"I have," she nodded, "and I must add in she has a wide list of references." Both men turned to Uno just then but Uno didn't notice; she was too busy staring at Madam Giry with alarm in her eyes. Erik smiled a charming grin, knowing already that Uno had a strong secret that only she and Madam Giry knew about.

_So the poor woman has to keep yet _another_ identity to herself,_ Erik contemplated. Erik watched as Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back.

_My, my, my, Uno… you have courage to challenge Madam Giry._

"She does, does she?" Firmin repeated. "We will be looking forward to your audition at the start of next week."

"Fine," Uno said in return. Erik noticed the hint of anger in the back of her voice.

"For how many years have you been dancing?" Andre asked. Erik watched as Uno glanced off to the side in thought.

_Has it been a long time that she lost the amount of years?_ He frowned. _Perhaps she really isn't a ballerina and is trying to come out with a lie._

"A long time," she finally replied. She turned back to stare at them. "I've been dancing for a long time but I've stopped for this past year."

"Why?" Firmin asked; Erik wondered as well. "If you said you've been dancing for a long time then why did you stop for the last year?"

Erik's brows knitted together in weary but immediately vanished when he noticed her fists balling behind her back. He smirked and licked his lips, wondering how much of a challenge she'll accept from Madam Giry's offering hands.

"Sir," she practically barked out. "Do you two own the Opera Populaire?"

Erik's breath caught in his throat at her question. _Did she… did she just ask them if they owned the building?_

"I," Firmin choked out, "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you the owner of the Opera Populaire or do you just run it as a manager?" Uno repeated herself. Erik leaned forward and leaned his chin on his clasped hands. He would greatly like to see where this conversation went off to, considering despite what the managers replied with would depend on whether or not he would send his next order about the ballerina's contracts being changed.

"Are you?" Uno repeated herself. Again, Erik had to stifle a smile at the girl's persistence.

"Why—no!" Firmin shot back in shock. "We do not own the Opera Populaire!"

Uno nodded her head and Erik saw a faint glimmer of a smile portrayed upon her face. "Then it is not up to you to determine whether or not I will be permitted to join the Opera Populaire's cast and crew. After all, only being the managers you run the show and are certain the schedule is underway but you are not the one who is allowed the right to decline any contracts or sign any new one," she explained. "That is, unless, the owner has left those titles in your hands."

Erik smiled genuinely at her explanation. She was more than right. She had taken his job for him and stopped the fool-hardy managers from canceling or changing the contracts of several new ballerinas _including_ her own.

_And she did it in a political fashion as if she were a duchess,_ Erik added in mentally. _I shall have to thank her._

"Am I correct or are you two given the rights?" Uno confirmed.

"N-no," Firmin stumbled out. "You're quite right. B-but the owner—h-he hasn't been around in _years_!"

_And perhaps it's time I return to my job,_ Erik replied silently.

"Well that isn't the matter now, is it?" Uno spat the sentence out as if it were venom on her tongue. "If the owner of the opera isn't around to fulfill _his_ duties then the duties are left up to the second in command leaders," she snarled out. "_Which_, in this case, is Madam Giry, the ballet mistress!" She finished off by pointing an accusing finger at Madam Giry.

_I do believe you have just called my for my attention, dear Uno._ Erik glanced down at Madam Giry for a brief moment before returning to stare at the new ballerina whose tongue was sharper than any political figure he's ever heard of.

"Or have I mistaken facility rules and lack the governmental knowledge it takes to run a measly opera?" Uno asked sarcastically.

_Oh no, my dear, you are quite right and you have, by far, the best governmental knowledge it takes to run _my_ measly opera._ Erik glanced back down at Madam Giry as the woman raised her head to face him. Erik noticed a flash of weariness cross over the woman's eyes but he only nodded his head in agreement, telling her that he allowed what Uno was doing to continue on even further.

"Well?" Uno growled out. "Which is it?"

"I," Andre said slowly "we understand where you are looking at things from but you must understand one thing… the owner of the Opera Populaire, he—"

"He agrees to give permission to her audition when she asks," Madam Giry cut in. She dropped her gaze from Erik and returned to glance at Uno with determination. "He has agreed to give you the proper contract when desired."

"He has?" exclaimed both Monsieur Firmin and Andre. They gawked at Madam Giry before turning their heads up to stare at the box.

"You won't be disappointed," Uno murmured out. She turned and stared at Firmin and Andre before reclaiming her seat. Firmin and Andre stared at Erik's dark shadow—which he noticed fear etched on both their faces at the sigh of actually _seeing_ him in person after what happened three years ago—then faced Madam Giry. Before turning away to retrieve from the theater they stole one last glance at the box where Erik sat.

"I take it you have a piece you would like to audition to?" Monsieur Reyer asked Uno.

Uno nodded with a smile, "I will by tomorrow."

_You will?_ Erik frowned; how will she have music by the day if she only recently decided to audition? Did she already have an idea in mind?

"I'll hand you the music tomorrow after rehearsals and I'm sure your musicians will have finished learning it by Monday afternoon when I will give my audition," Uno added in. Erik frowned once again and glanced back at Madam Giry with wonder in his eyes, his brows creasing together. Madam Giry glanced at Uno much the way Erik was staring at her before turning around and addressing the ballet.

_She is a brilliant woman,_ Erik pondered silently. He stood up and made his way into the hallway then through one of his trap doors that took him into the walls of the building. _She knew how to speak and stun the managers of their rightful titles. I really am going to have to thank her for that._

He returned to his lair unnoticed and continued with his compositions the second he reached his organ.

-

Erik watched as the rehearsals for the final act took place on the stage below him and grumbled when Carlotta took the spotlight once again. He had hoped the managers would find a better diva but rather looking for a fresh new start—since Christine refused to return to the stage—they had hired La Carlotta's hot Italian blood once again, this time with a higher pay.

_Like she needs it,_ he told himself. He watched as the ballet danced and twirled around and accepted Madam Giry's complaints.

"Where are my managers," Carlotta shouted. Erik cringed at the tone of her voice.

_God why did they bring her back?_ He wouldn't mind hiring a new voice but he had yet to find one himself and after what happened to Christine, he wasn't sure if anyone was willing to come sing on his stage; Carlotta at least didn't mind if her salary was paid a little more.

"I wish to speak to my managers!"

"What is it you wish to speak to them for?" Monsieur Reyer asked. "They are in the office going over the seats that were sold."

"I have been told my contract might be up after the next opera and I want to know _why_!"

_Thank God,_ Erik said mentally. Perhaps the managers finally got a little smarter at their job and decided to find a better voice for the music.

"I will be certain they renew your contract, Madam," Monsieur Reyer assured. "But right now we do not have much time left."

"Fine," the woman barked back. "But I wish to know the reason for this—" She noticed Uno sitting in the audience. "And _who_ is that?" Erik frowned and glanced down at the new ballerina sitting in the same chair as the day before.

"Who are you girl?" Carlotta barked out. "I don't like viewers to watch before the opera and if you're going to I'd like for you to pay!"

"Incompetent _bitch_!" Uno seethed out. "I'll kill her one day!" Erik smiled at her response to the outrageous woman on the stage. Uno had courage and Erik knew she wouldn't be afraid to show it off.

"What was that?" The woman sneered. "I heard you say something—what did you say about me?"

"She is of none of your concern," Madam Giry intervened. The smile left Erik's face as he watched Madam Giry calm the argument between the diva and the new ballerina. "She is a ballerina from America and will be auditioning this Monday."

Carlotta narrowed her eyes over at Uno. "I wish to know what you said about me! Well?"

"That'll be enough," Madam Giry intervened once more. "Leave her be, Carlotta. She has done no harm to you."

"Uno," Madam Giry turned to the ballerina, "this is our diva, La Carlotta."

Carlotta stiffened her back and raised her chin. "I won't be spoken of by a ballet _rat_!"

Erik sighed and pushed back in his chair. Carlotta had the nerve of ten-thousand snobbish women and she only got worse since the fall of the Opera Populaire three years ago. Perhaps since he killed her husband she has gotten worse? Who knew? All he cared for was his opera house and with the diva blaring rude comments against the new ballerina—who also appeared to be quite aggressive with her words—he wouldn't know how much longer the second version of this building would remain standing.

Carlotta began singing and as usual Erik winced at the voice. He turned away and felt as if he should leave, hide in the shadows as he used to before he gave Christine a taste at the spotlight. He never _did_ like listening to the opera when Carlotta sang; she destroyed every note she ever touched and scratched at it until it was no longer a single note to be sang!

He glanced down and saw Uno felt much the same way. The poor ballerina was cringing in her seat and for a moment Erik noticed her jaw locking in place and saw that she was gritting her teeth.

_Well it appears I'm not the only one who can't stand the toad's croak._ Erik remembered that fateful night where Carlotta began to croak like a toad and he actually chuckled at the thought. Perhaps he should do it again, just for fun this time.

He knew he wouldn't be able to; the managers so far had paid his salary and left his box open so he should spare them the humiliation of doing such a thing.

_Though it would be quite fun to taunt them once again._

About five minutes after Erik watched how uncomfortable Uno was getting he realized he couldn't handle anymore. Either he would leave and save his ears or he would remain and suffer and possibly make his ears bleed. He opted for the first choice and got up to leave. With one final glance down at the ballerina, he muttered a silent prayer that Carlotta would find a better theater to sing at before the year was over, then turned and fled from the box.

-

As in the past, Erik did not attend the opera where Carlotta sang to the full house and instead he strode into the forest not far from the Opera Populaire on the back of his black stallion. Thanks to the managers finally obeying his orders he was able to keep his horse—Hercules—in the stables and let the stable boys tend to his every need. He strode around the moonlight and it wasn't until three in the morning when he returned. The stable boys were practically asleep but tossing a bag of francs onto the laps had woken them to absolutely nothing; they took one glance at Hercules and they knew who had just stopped by and what to do with the horse.

Erik returned to his lair to continue his music. He noticed several late-partiers still up and about, slowly returning to their dorms, and made a mental note to contact the managers about a curfew as soon as possible. The cast needed a set time to be asleep for fear of what could happen to them. He may not _always_ be around to 'save the day' and he wasn't prepared to lose any of his crew, either.

He stayed in his cave until the start of the nest day when he decided to only return to the rafters to deliver a message. As soon as he noticed Madam Giry pick it up off the ground, he retreated back into the shadows and returned home.

_When the managers hear it they will take the actions into immediate thought,_ he said silently. _After all, the importance of my theater to run at top notch requires a curfew of the latest hour up and earliest hour to wake, anyone left over should answer directly to me._

He smirked. _That_ would get them to pay attention to the curfew and know when the right time to get some rest is.

It wasn't until Sunday night when he decided to return to the woods for another run with Hercules. He left his dungeon and returned to the halls only to notice another dark shadow moving about. He frowned and stayed away, watching the shadow lurk about until it reached the kitchen.

_Who would be foolish enough to wander the corridors at night?_

Erik remained in the hall and ducked further into the shadows when the figure, now bathed in a dim lighting, stepped out of the kitchen. It was the new ballerina, Uno! She glanced around at her surroundings before turning back around and locking the door with a bobby pin.

Erik smirked. _She knows how to pick locks and maneuver it with only one hand. Talented young girl, she is._

He stayed hidden and decided to follow her instead of taking his stroll through the woods. He wasn't sure where she was going but she appeared to know her way around quite well. When she stepped into the theater he knew opening the door would alarm her so instead he used one of his trap doors, ran through the wall, then shot out into the theater somewhere off in the audience, hidden in the black from her eyes but still able to see her on the stage from the little glow of the gas lamp. He sat down on a chair near the front of the pit and relaxed.

"I can do this again," she chanted softly. Erik noticed she balled her fists and closed her eyes. She was nervous, indeed.

"And no body's watching so I have nothing to fear."

_What little she knows,_ Erik smirked to himself.

She took a deep breath, kicked her slippers away from her position on the stage, raised her chin and relaxed her nerves. He watched as she jogged gracefully from the corner of the stage towards the middle then when she reached the center her footing became a combination of switches that he had never seen before. He frowned and turned away from her feet to notice her arms swaying seductively on the sides of her body.

_What in the Hell?_

Uno closed her eyes and slid towards one side of her feet-switches while her seductive arms angled at the opposite. He felt a lodge of his saliva form into a tight knot in the back of his throat and to continue breathing he had to force it down in a heavy swallow. The moves she was doing reminded him of the years he spent with the Gypsies. Each sway of her body enticed another thought out of him that he had thought he had destroyed after Christine left him.

_Is this what her performance was going to be?_

When she twirled her form slowed down in the middle of it and her limbs sprawled out, to express an open, spiral twirl. Erik stifled a weak smile. No doubt she would have the managers gawking at her and each stage handler plotting against her. He would _definitely_ have to follow her around for her protection.

When she twirled once again her footing slipped and her ankle twisted, sending her tumbling to the floor. Erik winced at what pain she most likely had to feel but gawked at what had come out of her mouth instead.

"Fuck! God I'm out of shape for this shit." Uno hung her head and began massaging her ankle. Erik swallowed back another lodge that had gotten itself stuck in his throat.

"Fuck it," she forced through clenched teeth and a growl before pushing up. "If I have to I'll practice before I attempt it again but I _won't_ give up until I have it down!"

_Her language is _extremely_ colorful and very improper!_ Erik's mouth gaped open as she continued to curse beneath her breath. _Good Heavens she is horrible a sinful creature!_

He choked on his next breath of air. Uno Maxwell, the Opera Populaire's new ballerina; on the outside she appeared innocent—to a point—yet on the inside she was entirely dark. God only knows what terror this young girl will unleash if Carlotta ever spoke cruel to her again.

Erik watched as she started to practice. He relaxed in the chair once again and watched as she twirled quickly on her toes, in point formation. He watched as she stretched in the air and proved her flexibility, something he noticed, as of lately, his ballet were lacking. When she jogged he saw how angelic she had moved.

And then her graceful, swan leap. He had _never_ seen anyone complete that task as efficient as she just showed him.

_She truly is one of a kind,_ Erik thought to himself. _She would make a beautiful ballerina in my opera. I shall have to set up an opera where she would be the prime ballerina to dance in the spotlight._

When she finished her practices she started back on her performance and Erik, once again, had to sit through the whole thing in silence and watch as she seductively—and secretly—enticed him.

-

_Thank God that's finally over with,_ he grumbled inwardly. _If I had to spend any more than another minute of this I would suppose she would need protection from _me

Uno slid her slippers back onto her feet—which Erik was astonished hasn't bled from how many hours she practiced her performance—and picked up the lamp. He didn't know what music her 'exotic' dance belonged to but in a way he was terrified of hearing it.

He knew that if he had to sit back and watch the performance once again he would die of erection. Lord knows what sort of music this vixen had in store for her dance!

_And to think I figured the Gypsies were lustful creatures!_

Erik stood up from the chair and ran into another dark corner, desperate to stay hidden from the eyes of the new girl. He didn't have to worry but something warned him away from her. If she knew how to make her way around in the blackness of the halls from her room to the kitchen without a light then who knew if she could see him.

She froze and turned in his direction and for the first time, Erik got a good glimpse at her face. Her eyes were weak and swollen with sleep but she kept them opened with determination, as if falling asleep would be her last time. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, signaling her persistence. Her brows were knitted together in what he realized was a common sign of _her_ anger; though her anger had never really left her since the day he had first noticed she even existed.

"Who's there?" She demanded. Erik remained quiet and watched as she narrowed her eyes and peered into the darkness. If she could see into the color black then she would see him without a struggle.

But thank God she couldn't.

"If anyone's there then tell me or forever have coward dubbed to your name!" That made Erik grin. In fact, it made him laugh. He released a soft chuckle but he didn't want to alarm her so instead of allowing it to come straight out of _his_ lips, he used his ventriloquism and directed it to come from the box seats above. Uno frowned and turned away.

"This place has too many secrets," she breathed out in a sigh. Erik chuckled once again, this time delivering it from the stage, and watched as she exited the theater.

_That's right, my dear,_ Erik said mentally. _Believe this place a haunted theater for the more fear from the ballet the better. After all, the more you all are afraid of me the least you will be to decide upon another hunt of my existence, much as your fellow ballet rats did in the past._


	5. Audition Time

_The reason for this delay of updating and posting chapter five? I am going out of town and will not be back until Sunday evening... in which, I believe, will be a good thing to return to: reviews in my mailbox! Wahoo! Okay... well... you all have waited long enough for this chapter._

_If you wish to SEE Uno perform her audition, go to the Synodd Database website, located on my bio (it's the Duo's Child story website). The link is located on the 'Extras' page; go there and see all else I have to offer SO FAR! Yes, there WILL be more eventually!_

_You all have ALSO wanted a long chapter... well... here you go... 22 pages worth of a dance... I hope it makes sense... I went through each second of the video to try and capture it and I know I did a piss-poor job at it too... oh well. (shrugs) Who's bein' picky, eh? Not me... not for fanfiction._

_I'm trying to put Uno into a fic of her own, now that she's a living character in my mind and in many others. I've had enough people, with my credit, put her into a fic of their own. I think it's time to allow fanfiction to be written off of her... so I'm going to try and write a book with her in it._

_Let's do reviews real quick... since I have less than 4 hours to rest before the 7 hour trip. I'm in Houston/Katy Texas and I'm traveling to Abilene. (sp?... maybe it's Abeline?)_

**Many Voices In My Head: **Ballerinas are considered rats... I forgot the purpose but I believe it was along the lines of a nosy bunch of girls. (shrugs) And I asked around... it's normal to feel that way about Erik... many PotO fans do (including myself). It means ya' love him... (winks)  
**psychobunny410:** Yes... but don't worry... Uno knows just about everything... so she has a few of her own tricks up her sleeves... (grins evilly) Just you wait, my dear psychotic bunny rabbit.  
**XoAnGeL-Of ThE-NiGhToX: **...WELL, you do know how to expect the strangest sides. Yes... Uno will not be using her gun when she meets him but she has a gun that she can leagally walk around with... it's called her mouth... and boy does she use it already. (grins)Uno won't need to worry about shooting him when they meet... she's got a cocky attitude with words that can spit fire in under a second.  
**.x.X.Bex.X.x.: **Well all I can say is a lot of the story will be viewed from two sides... and there's a strong reason to that... there's two sides of people reading... those in the Phantom of the Opera genre and those who have followed Uno from the Gundam Wing genre. And... well, this chapter explains what everyone thought of her dance. The next will be... actually... I honestly don't know what the next chapter will be about! Lol!  
**Alana12: **Thank you; I'm greatly thrilled that you are admired by this story.  
**danilion: **I know your face from somewhere! Well, your name, at least! (giggles) You've been one of those who've followed Uno throughout the span of her life and you most likely are the only one who know out of expectancy what will become of her cuz you've seen the training's she's endured in her childhood (although this fic touches up on what I never added in... example: her ballet). When people see her audition they ARE shocked, though they start off by talking badly about her. Read this chapter and you will see for yourself. And I like what you offered about Erik... it's rather funny to think about what we consider these day's conservative to them would still be considered provocating... after all... women in dress suits? Thanks to Madonna, now it's possible!

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**- Chapter Five -  
**Monsieur Reyer was shuffling through his compositions when Uno arrived. He glanced up once before turning back to his music sheets and muttered a term in French beneath his breath. Uno smirked upon hearing his muttered curse.

"Problems?" She asked.

"No," Monsieur Reyer replied, his head still hanging low as he continued to examine his works. "My musicians are a bit in a bind about the next opera. It appears they do not _wish_ to play the music of _Adina_, stating that it simply does not suit the following return of _Don Quijote De La Mancha_."

Uno glanced at him a bit puzzled. "You're the conductor," she murmured. "Why don't you demand them to obey your orders?"

Monsieur Reyer shot her a devastated look and nearly gasped. "But they will leave the opera and I can't have that!"

"So… then you give them a reason to stay," Uno returned. Her brows furrowed as she glanced over to a music stand standing before a chair. "You tell them that if they leave you will send notice to all other theaters around about their misconduct, forcing them to remain under your liege."

Monsieur Reyer couldn't believe what he was hearing from a soon-to-be ballerina. "Are you implying that I _blackmail_ my musicians? That I _threaten_ them into staying?"

Uno turned away and mumbled to herself, "Saying it like that makes it sound entirely cruel."

"It _is_ cruel!"

"Eh," she shrugged suddenly and returned to face him with her previous nonchalant expression. "It was just an idea. I can see why you'd not like it but… it's _your_ musicians." Monsieur Reyer continued gaping at her. "Why not just change the opera?"

That definitely changed his expression to a blanker look. "To what?"

"Well," Uno shrugged her shoulders and glanced down at the papers in her hands, the papers of her music she would need the musicians to learn for her audition later that day. "Why not do something totally different? Perhaps something like _Entführung aus dem Serail_."

Monsieur Reyer looked stunned. "A piece by Mozart?"

"Why not? It's comical and will ease the musician's to a point," she explained. "Either that or suffer and lose them. I didn't think they could get up and walk away that easily but if they found a better offer elsewhere outside of the Opera Populaire I don't see a reason for them to stay."

He glanced back down at his stack of papers and frowned. "I not sure if we could do such a thing," he murmured. "To copy one of Mozart's famous pieces means to destroy one of the greatest men alive." He realized something and stole a glance at her. "And how do you know about his work? He wasn't _that_ famous to _all_ of England unless you were a conductor who had the opportunity to meet with him."

"Have you?" Uno pondered sarcastically.

Monsieur Reyer straightened his back. "I have once, yes. The man was known for his outrageous composing. He could sit at his piano for hours at a time and not realized that the world would go by while he composed."

"So I heard," Uno mumbled. "I also heard a few rumors say he was a loon for remaining locked inside at all hours of the day and night."

"And you believe them?"

Uno shrugged once again and looked back down at her own composition. "I didn't say I do and I never said I didn't. I just don't judge people until I meet them."

"I see."

"So," she raised her head and smiled, "give them a comical piece that was created in seventeen-eighty-two and then return to _Adina_."

"I suppose so," he glanced down at his works again. "You seem to know your music."

Uno shrugged and glanced away to hide her mind's work of thinking up a lie. "Yes," she murmured sheepishly, "I do."

Monsieur Reyer nodded his head and finally noticed the papers Uno had in her hands. "What do you have there?"

She turned to him and saw he was glancing down at her composition. With a smirk she raised her hands and extended it towards him. "The music for my audition," she replied. "I'm sure your musicians will be able to learn it in under four hours so I will have what I need to dance to."

"Only for hours?" He covered his mouth with his hand and gawked at her. "Are you _mad_, Uno?"

Uno's brows creased as she gazed at him in worry. "It's not even a five minute song," she stated. "And half of it is repeated. It shouldn't take long to learn for my performance."

He sighed and turned away. "Have you _never_ played an instrument before?" He asked her in a loud manner. "Time is needed for preparation, for tuning, for understanding what the music is and _attempting_ it without practice! And _practice_ takes _time_!"

"The musicians should also be prepared," she added in, "for any instant changes that might be made to their music."

"_Precisely!_" He lowered his hand. "You can't expect a musician to know how to play a piece the first time he sees it," he explained. "What you're asking is impossible and I do believe you explained you would have it ready two days ago."

She nodded. "That I did only it took me a while to create the single parts besides the conductor's copy," she explained. "Monsieur Reyer… this is _not_ the first piece of music I've made in my life and at the same time, I've not had a single thing to remind me of it since my childhood other than a memory. What I made this from is what I remembered from my audition I danced several years prior."

He gawked at her. "You did not have a single instrument near by when you created this?" He received the stack of music from the ballerina's hands and examined it. "You ran off of a single _memory_?"

"That I did," she agreed with a stiff posture. Monsieur Reyer glanced at her in shock. "I'm speechless."

"Good," she smirked. "Because when I'm up for a challenge I usually go over the top."

He frowned. "Over the top?"

Uno nodded her head. "That's right. If I'm set up against an obstacle I fight it with everything I have, even if I don't need to work that much against it."

"You're competitive," he murmured at her.

"Definitely," she agreed. "When somebody tells me to do something—I do it. When they challenge me—I usually win."

"I see."

"I've also felt to add in a few extra sound effects while I was composing my 'memory'," she added in.

"Sound… effects?"

"A few easy things they can do… that is, _if_ they can do two things at once."

He stared at her in worry. "What sort's of 'things'?"

"At the beginning and the end, they are to stomp their feet as if they're marching," she explained. "It'll give the piece more of the appropriate illusion for the dance."

_Not to mention remind me of the war so I don't feel _entirely_ out of place,_ she finished off mentally. It was true, to a point; since she's woken up in Madam Giry's bed Uno felt as if she didn't belong in the world if there wasn't a war to fight in or some random battle to test her might within.

_Is this why Heero struggled to become 'humane' once _their_ war ended?_ She pondered to herself while she sat in her room for hours, making the adjustments to the piece. _Was he so _perfect _in his war-self that he didn't know how to live in the world after the war ended? I had much of the same childhood as him, always training and preparing for the life planned out before me._

Uno shook her head to rid herself of her current thoughts that repeated themselves from when she sat in the room and composed her music. She returned to Monsieur Reyer and lifted her chin, her posture stiffening to stand proud.

"So do you feel you are up for a challenge, Monsieur Reyer?" She asked. "Or should I just withdraw from this theater and make another theater a famous building?"

His brows knitted together in worry. "Famous?"

"That's right," she explained with a grin. Uno folded her arms across her chest. "When you see what I can do as a ballerina you will be silenced and yet, you will be forever grateful that I have audition for _your_ operas over anyone else's."

He frowned. "What makes you think I will be entirely shocked?"

"Believe me," her grin slowly faded away as a smirk replaced it, "everyone always is."

-

"Mademoiselle you can't wear such provocating attire," said the seamstress. "It's not proper."

Uno tilted her nose up at that and scoffed back. "Oh please, I'm sure there are worse things than wearing tight black pants and a tight black shirt."

"There are prostitutes and you will look like one of them," the woman urged. Uno frowned and turned away, retreating back to the mirror. "They will take you to be a sinister."

"Just because I dress like this?" She frowned. "And if I were a whore I wouldn't be dressed in _pants_," Uno fought. "Skirts and dresses are more appealing than _me_ in tight pants."

_Then again… I'm sure Justin or Ricky would come up with some sarcastic remark to _that

"_No_ Mademoiselle, they are just the same for these pants will outline your body."

Uno frowned. "Why would that be bad?"

"It sends the wrong messages!"

Uno almost had to laugh at that. If this poor woman were anywhere in AC197 then she'd die of a heart attack at the way people dressed. Women wearing even tighter clothing and some even military uniforms, men in slacker clothes, and even children dress like the Moulin Rouge figures.

Which reminded her…

"Is the Moulin Rouge still around?" Uno pondered for a second.

"Yes," the woman replied before suddenly turning pale. "Are you planning on joining them?"

"No," Uno's brows creased in thought. "I was just wondering if they've ended their rein of prostitution yet."

"No Mademoiselle," the woman replied partially saddened, "they have not. They still run the basic streets."

Uno shrugged. "Oh well."

"But please, I beg of you to change. Wear a leotard, if anything, Uno. It is not proper for a lady to wear such clothing."

Uno sighed. "Fine," she groaned out. "I'll wear the black leotard and the mini cover-up."

"That's it?" The woman gasped.

Uno turned around to gape at her. "Yes," she said strictly, "that is it. I will _not_ wear slippers and I will _not_ be pressed further into this conversation."

The woman bowed her head. "I'm only trying to help, Uno. You do not understand how dangerous some of the stage crew can be."

"I bet," Uno murmured out, staring at her in disbelief. "If anything they will find out I'm more of a fight to put up with rather than another of their own gender."

The woman frowned up at her, not understanding a single thing Uno spoke. Uno waved her hand in the air, signaling the woman's departure, and turned back to the mirrors.

"Do me a favor," she murmured to the woman, "go to the stage and make sure they have that wooden chair that was out there the night before. I'll be needing a chair that's moveable and yet durable for my performance," Uno explained. "Make sure they have it."

She nodded. "Yes Mademoiselle. I beg of you to change, however." The woman fled from the room quietly, leaving Uno her needed privacy.

"Yeah," Uno grumbled back. "I will."

_Though only for practice,_ she said to herself. _When my performance begins _I_ decide what _I_ do._ Uno stared into her own eyes through the reflection of the mirror and grinned.

_Relena… let's see how _much_ of my training with you I remember and how much of Duo's influence still remains._

-

"Uno," Madam Giry said softly as she neared Uno backstage, "are you prepare to audition before everyone?"

Uno was currently slipping on thin ballet 'socks' and paused, her heart jolting to a stop. She glanced up at the older woman and frowned.

"Everyone?" She repeated. "Who's everyone?"

_Who all wants to watch me dance?_

"Yes, Uno," Madam Giry affirmed her. "Everyone. The managers, the ballet, Monsieur Reyer and his musicians—

"Of course," Uno cut in.

"The stage crew and several others who have decided to attend."

Uno's brows knit in worry. "I didn't think my audition was going to be viewed by the public."

"It's not," the woman replied. "But a few known faces of the opera have come to watch the auditions for the following play, some of which were highly known throughout this theater before."

Uno frowned in thought. "Like who?"

"Our patron, Viscount Raoul de Changy and his wife, Christine de Chagny," Madam Giry said softly. "Christine has been a ballerina here once before and then became a diva."

"Yeah? What happened? Married life got in the way of her singing career?" Uno murmured, turning back to her feet as she slipped on the next 'sock'.

"Heaven's no, Uno," Madam Giry gaped. "After the tradety she had stopped singing altogether, fearing the return of _him_."

Uno's brows knitted together in wonder and she turned to gaze up into the serious eyes of what she once believed to be her future self. "_Him_? Who is this, _'him'_?"

"The ghost," she replied. "Christine and the ghost had a strong connection and it was destroyed upon her spotlight actions."

Uno groaned and turned away. "More of this 'ghost' talk," she murmured. "Enough with the ghost stories, Madam Giry." Uno gathered herself and got to her feet. She stared the woman in the eyes and grumbled.

"I'm old enough to know the truth and the truth is that ghosts do _not_ exist."

Madam Giry pressed her lips and silenced the subject from moving on any further. She simply nodded her head then proceeded to change the topic.

"Are you prepared?"

"As prepared as I can get," Uno replied sluggishly. "Are the musicians able to perform my piece?"

Madam Giry breathed out a sigh of uneasiness. "I'm afraid you left them little time to complete their practices but I am quite sure you would not be entirely disappointed. They have gone quite a distance in preparing for your short audition."

"It's only two and a half minutes," Uno spat out. "How hard can two and a half minutes of music be to learn?"

"You do not understand what you asked of the musicians," Madam Giry fought back. "You asked them to learn a piece that is rather new and gave them little time. They did what they could do."

Uno nodded her head. "Then it's enough."

Madam Giry nodded in approval. "Very well. Would you like to practice a bit before you perform? You do know, as of tomorrow, we will have the next opera chosen and Monsieur Reyer and I will be holding auditions for the corpse de ballet. Most likely by the second day, Wednesday, that is, we will have the time to reach the second half of the ballet."

Uno's brows creased. "So I'll be part of the second half?"

"I do not know yet, Uno," she said. "But I do know you must hurry with your audition so as to not disturb the managers. They are awfully uncomfortable about hearing a piece of music written by a woman."

Uno snorted upon hearing the comment about her work. "They'll have to suffer," she scoffed out. "At least _I_ know how to make music and do something productive rather than just discuss how I'm going to decline a few contracts."

A flash of worry crossed the woman's face but it was immediately wiped away and replaced by her ever-famous stern gaze. She pressed her hands together and nodded her head before turning around and taking her leave. Before she entirely exited the backstage, she paused and turned back to Uno.

"Are you nervous at all, Uno?"

Uno glanced down and remembered the first time she ever stood on stage. She was going to perform a song, to sing out how she felt for Ricky, in two completely different languages. She was nervous as a mouse fighting a large cat until Ricky had sent her a kiss on her cheek for luck. That had warmed up the cold, shaking fear in her heart and comforted her enough to relax for her act.

"No," Uno returned to the woman with a determined nod of her head. "Not anymore." After remembering that night and the impact she had upon everyone she could never be nervous again.

Unless, of course, if she faltered and ended her rein of perfection.

-

Uno stepped out onto the stage and glanced around at the amount of people. _Oh God,_ she thought. _There's over a hundred people here, watching!_ She kept her face set straight upon the pit and her composure determined as she stepped to the center of the stage. She lifted her chin and scanned the audience quickly with her eyes alone, thankful for her years of military training and perfecting her eyesight to memorize slight details.

Monsieur Reyer stood before his musicians in the pit, gazing up at Uno as she took in the faces before her. Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin were seated in the front row just behind the pit wall, with Madam Giry besides them. A young, petite blonde sat besides the ballet mistress and then several other ballerinas gathered around the four seated in the center of the front row. Sitting in another section of the front row Uno hadn't noticed at the start were two faces she has yet to notice around the Opera Populaire; one—the male—had shoulder length brown hair and was dressed in a suit with what looked to her like a royal crest on the left collar bone, and the woman besides him was dressed moderately in a gown with dark brown, curly hair. Uno's own long braid had been wrapped up into a bun to keep out of her face while she danced, knowing quite well and remembering in her childhood when she perfected the dance in rehearsals, that her braid would slow her down; she didn't need to be slow in the piece she was about to perform.

Uno knew the rest of the rows were filled with the remaining ballerinas and cast—one of which owned the horrible voice, La Carlotta; what she didn't know was what each of them was known for, save for the diva. She noticed, sitting near the back of the theater, were the maids and unnecessary people the theater ran efficiently with. Her eyes glanced up and scanned each of the box seats quickly, hoping there weren't anymore visitors. So far all of them proved to be empty until she noticed a dark figure sitting in one of the boxes hanging on her left side.

She frowned. _Now why would that person be sitting all alone when everyone else sat in the audience?_

"Uno," Monsieur Reyer snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned and gazed down at the conductor. "Are you prepared?"

Uno nodded her head. "I would like to practice before I begin my performance, however." She paused and slightly furrowed her brows as a few of the ballerinas chuckled softly to one another.

_They will be corrected_, she amended silently. _They will shut up when they see what I can do and they cannot._ Uno held her head high and arched her shoulders back. The gossips only softened but they still remained.

"Very well," Monsieur Reyer said. "I will let my pianist just play a few soft melodies to help in your practice."

Uno nodded her head in approval. "Very well," she said. She knew if she were dancing before an actual sold-out house she wouldn't be able to practice; when that time came she would just be backstage, stretching, and preparing herself for what's to come. Now, she had the chance to practice and save for the night before, she hasn't danced in several years.

Uno turned and began swiftly pacing along the outer edges of the stage, minding her own business and not bothering to glance into the audience's direction. Her feet maneuvered as graceful as she retrained herself the night before and as soon as she finished her single run at the sides of the stage she leaped a small jump towards the center and began to spin around in an open spiral fashion the moment she landed. The murmurings ceased and closing her eyes, Uno allowed a hidden smile to play across her face.

_That's right_, she told herself. _Stare in amazement at what you _can't_ do. But don't worry,_ Uno paused and raised her arms above her head, lifted her left leg into the air, and raised herself on the points of her right toes. _You will see how much more I have to offer than you can _ever_ dream of._

Without bothering to lower her foot and reclaim her balance, Uno, from Point, immediately leapt into the air, did another open spiral twirl, and landed on the points of her left toes, switching her lifted legs until her right one was now in the air. She lowered herself back to the floor and paced gracefully to another side of the stage. She slowly turned around and continued turning until the speed increased at an alarming rate and she was soon doing her immediate twist, a move she has been taught to perform on ice skates rather than in ballet.

She was the only person her old ballet mistress has ever known to take ice skating techniques and martial arts and combine them with ballet.

As she finished her ice skating twirl she spread out her arms and a leg again for another open spiral spin and as soon as she finished that she began pacing from her spot on the stage towards the front, every-so-often turning her face to another direction. She opened her eyes and stared ahead of herself, certain to avoid glancing into anyone's shocked face, then suddenly leaped into the air. She spread her arms out on the sides of her body as her legs flexibly stretched out.

_Everyone_ gawked at her when she landed just as graceful as she had leapt.

Uno finished her practice by doing a small twirl. She kept her head slightly bowed as to hide the grin that came across her face. _That's right,_ she said silently. _Be amazed that my Swan Leap is ever more graceful than any of yours._

"I am quit stunned," Monsieur Firmin muttered out loud. Uno raised her head—her grin no longer visible—and glanced over to the manager. "Your _practice_ is amazing and yet you say you were only practicing. What does your performance look like then?"

Uno smirked. "In a moment," she replied back, "you will see." She turned and reached for the wooden chair that had been pushed to the side of the stage earlier that day and slid it closer to the center but still near the side. She gave Monsieur Reyer a determine nod of her head before retreating towards the opposite side of the stage than the chair and stepping behind the wall so nobody—but the conductor—could see. Hidden in the darkness there, Uno picked up her discarded pair of tight black pants and quickly slipped them on then removed the leotard skirt. She was now prepared to perform her dance and with a stiff nod of her head she told him she was ready.

Monsieur Reyer raised his baton and glanced back down at the musicians. Within the next second, Uno took a deep breath and gathered herself whole. The low drums played and she swiftly jogged out towards the center of the stage in accordance to the beat, her hands stiff at the sides of her body as she made her way up front. When she reached the front center of the stage the drum solo stopped and she ceased her jogging but extended her right arm out above her head and her left off to the side, her left leg joining it in the air.

The music continued to play and she soon jogged a few extra steps to another spot in the front of the stage before doing another sudden posing, this time much faster. Her right leg shot up in the air backwards, her left arm in the air above her head, and her right arm out on the sides; within the split second she did the pose she took it away and slowly spun around in place to aim her face at another direction—without simply turning her head to the other side—and soon formed another pose, this time her leg was lowered and she practically knelt onto the ground, but still held up in the air, showing how well her back can arch.

She spun back around and paced herself to another spot on the front of the stage to repeat the second pose she recently complete, this time facing another direction of the audience. The foot-stomping the musician added into the music had helped to ease her mind, reminding her of the wars she so easily relaxed for; they once comforted her and now since they were no more, she had to find a way to improvise.

A sudden drum roll sounded and she side stepped quickly—swiftly—to the left to do another pose, only this time she danced gracefully in place by curving her arms up and down, glancing in both directions, and lifting both knees at opposite times of her arms. As soon as she finished her short dance she twirled and stepped away from there, then ceased and extended her arms behind her and in front of her to keep her balance, raised her left leg backwards, and bent all the way down—without bending her knees—to touch the floor, showing off, once again, her flexibility.

She knew a few of the ballerinas were gaping at her in silence and although she, in another time, would have loved to grin at their stunned faces, Uno simply kept to herself and continued to imagine that the whole world was nothing other than another hologram those old training simulations.

She lowered her leg but her arms remained in the air, one stretched to the side while the other was practically folded into her chest, and stared out at the audience with her determined face. Another drum roll came, the stomping ceased, and she turned to run swiftly away from the front of the stage, her footsteps going in time with the repeating beat of the beginning drums. She traced the outer edges of the stage then cut it in half by returning to the center. Immediately, the tempo of the music changed and so did her dance; she now was in her AC197 club form and her dancing techniques ran off of what she knew would win her competition the best: lust.

Uno knew that if she were to audition for a part in the Opera Populaire anywhere in the eighteen hundreds then she would most likely fail at it, since their form of ballet was far different than the style she was taught in her childhood. True, basic ballet never changes but the pieces do and so do the dances. The audience's eyes change according to what's in style and for that reason, she had to learn how to maneuver swiftly to modern dance beats—or where she came from was considered modern—time would consider; nowadays she _knew_ it would be a sinful dance but she had no choice on the matter. She couldn't do _just_ basic and expect to get a decent role in _any_ opera or ballet so long as she did the bare minimum like all the other ballerinas would; she'd have to win the competition the way she knew would be a sure-fire beating to any other girl: through the eyes of the male managers.

Uno knew best that the quickest way through a man's eyes was through his loins.

The music played a more dance grove than anything she knew the audience has ever heard and began dancing, in time, to _each_ beat—not just every other beat as clubs did. Her waist spun at a few sections of the song, her knees shot out in angles to the sides as her arms shot to the opposite directions—moves that she remembered learning when she learned martial arts—and finished her quickie by achieving a much faster ice skating spin, in place on one foot—let alone on _one_ toe. She bent her arms into her body as she spun quickly and as soon as she was _mildly_ ready to slow down, she stopped—when she was facing the audience, Uno spread her legs apart and swiftly—along with suddenly—dropped into the splits. She leaned forward and laid down, her hands propping her up off the floor, and stared ahead at the audience with her determined face.

She curved her body and pushed off the ground with the help of her hands and her hips, and got to her knees. She stuck one leg out to the side as her arms danced in the air, keeping the tempo of the beat going with her body, and as she spun her arms towards her right side her entire body slid on the floor with it, soon putting her into a short spin by her knees rather then her feet. As the beat increased its tempo so did her dance and matching the notes of the song she clasped her hands in a combination of different parts, once beneath her raised leg, another behind her back, and even in front of her face; each clasp was as fast as the beat, signifying her swiftness and gracefulness to those watching. As the music deepened into the song her arms spun to the side again and spun her body with it; however this time she raised herself to her feet.

As she spun back around to face the audience her arm finished its extended spin before returning to her posture. Without moving she leaped from where she stood and did a fast swan leap into the air away and when she landed she turned back around to face were she had just leapt from, raised one leg into the air perfectly parallel to the stage, and slowly uncurled her hands and arms out to match their parallel level. Suddenly, matching another beat to the song, she stood up and was facing the audience, her legs parted and her hands by her sides. Her right arm shot out to the side, matching the beats yet again, then swiftly glided down towards her left leg—she never bent her back, only lowered her gaze with her arm—then moved her right arm around to the side of her right leg.

The second her arm returned to her side she dropped to the ground, pushed herself forward—sliding on her knees—held one arm in the air and arched her back backwards to lean on the other arm that remained pressed against the floor behind her. She shot back to her feet and kept her head down as her arms extended in front and in back of her and her feet swiftly switching positions as they slightly bounced her in place with the fast tempo as the drums pounded to the beat. Slowly, as the drums sounded and her dance continued, she turned to the audience, one arm spinning in front of her form as the other stayed out on the side, and her feet continued to bounce her in place. Her left arm soon curved into her body as her right shot out to the side, then they switched twice before her left returned to curve back into her body and her right slowly shot out into the air above her and lowered to point out to the audience, perfectly parallel to the stage.

She cured her right arm into her chest as her left extended behind her and began pacing—or rather, gracefully jogging and leaping—towards her right, keeping her eyes on her path and ignoring the audience. She circled around the front of the stage until she found a new spot on the other side. She continued to bounce in place and while in the air her feet switched stanzas, a move not taught to ballerinas; she found martials arts to greatly help her dancing when she was a child. Her arms extended out on her sides to keep her balance and give more to the illusion of her dance. Suddenly, ignoring the beats, she stared out at the audience, raised her right arm into the air above her head and her left out behind her, raised her left leg into the air backwards as well, and lifted herself up onto her right toe, showing off her strength upon her Point dancing formations. She noticed a few gawking faces and locked her jaw in place to ignore them.

She returned to her stand once again and continued doing a similar dance to what she was doing before her Point pose, only this time there was less of a show as her legs didn't quite lift that high into the air. With her right arm above her once again she lowered it in a seductive curving fashion as her hips danced to the beat, her left arm still extended out to her side and her feet still switching between different stanzas. When her arm lowered she did a short jump to turn around, crossing her arms as she went, and as soon as her back was to them she turned her face back in their direction from the opposite side and narrowed her eyes. She relaxed her composure to that of a strut as she strolled back another foot to her previous spot on the stage. She pushed her arms out before her in another 'push' and her leg in another 'kick' like fashion, her gaze still upon the audience before her. When she pulled her arms back she dropped to the floor, one arm again raised in the air to keep her spiral effect in motion, and spun around, her legs doing one of her 'sweeps' from her martial arts.

Uno stood back up, her back and legs stiff once again. With both arms in synchronized motion, she turned them towards the side before suddenly pointing down towards the opposite angel, her left leg bending backwards with it as with her face. She returned to staring ahead out at the viewers, jerked her leg back in place, and shot one of those fingers out towards the audience in another perfect parallel level to the stage floor. She jerked one of her knees to strengthen her composure, tipped her head to the side as her hands and arms went with her, and jumped in the air using only her ankles; she kept her legs locked in placed as she pushed off with her toes.

Uno turned and faced the other side of the side, slid her feet backwards as her arms switched their levels, and as she finished her backwards marching she bent her back backwards and clapped her hands together. One arm shot back out into the air and helped to complete her enclosed spiral spin—which appeared fast since it was enclosed—and when she stopped she bent over and began dancing her arms in time with the beat, pointing at the audience then at the side, simple dance moves she's learned from watching trashy television shows.

She took a step backwards and turned back to the side, her face still plastered upon the audience, and began stepping away. When the beat changed once again she stopped and bent back over, both of her arms curved into her body as her hands stood at the sides of her face. They danced as she slowly stood back up, her set look glued to the faces of those who gawked back in return. As soon as she was back to her standing position she began pacing towards the chair and pulled it towards the front center of the stage. She slammed it down then continued pacing away from it towards the side of the stage. As she slowed down, Uno spun around and continued spinning as she neared the chair once more. Just before she reached it she leaped into the air during another spin then immediately spun and sat down when she reached her seat.

She shot one arm out to the side and her leg went with it, and then pulled it back in. Gripping the chair with her hands, she spread her legs and arched her back, her face now staring up at the ceiling. Inside she _knew_ this was what stunned the manager's for the move was _entirely_ sinful and straight out of Hell; it was even a lustful dance move for _her_ time and in AC197 sex was just about as common as space colonies. Uno returned her gaze to the audience but kept her back arched. She ignored the faces of all the people gawking at her and curved her body in the old snake dance that had been redesigned during her childhood. The dance helped to regain her seat and when she did she kept an arm out to the side while her other shot from the side to a tiny section of the chair between her legs, back out before her then back to the chair between her legs, and when she shot her arm upward she leaped up in the air with it. When she sat back down she clapped her hands together and stood up, pushing the chair backwards in between her legs and bringing it up before her. She turned it around to face herself and slammed it down on the stage then immediately shot up on it with her foot and spun around off it. When she returned to the floor she spun around again, her arms dancing with her this time, and then used her foot to tip the chair towards her.

She dropped to the ground as she turned the chair back around on its hind legs and had it facing the audience once more. Uno then jumped up and leaped over the back of the chair, her legs on both sides of it. Out of no where she sat all prim and proper, one leg bent over the other, her arms up in the air and slowly lowering as if she had to regain her composure. When they lowered to her lap the drum solo returned and so did her movements. First her shoulders danced to the beat then as the beat continued on she maneuvered her body to the beat until the dance traveled all the way down her legs, where the leg hanging off the other stiffened and raised out into the air. She pushed off the chair and lowered to the floor, slowly spinning around to the beat as she did. The same leg that lifted into the air lifted once more and traveled from her left side into a semi-circle over towards her right; Uno knew that if the seamstress had her way _entirely_ and had Uno wearing that leotard skirt instead of the pants the entire audience _would_ take her for a whore.

Uno was smart enough to at least let the poor woman believe her to follow the advice, as in the practice she wore that bloody skirt.

Uno got to her feet without doing another spin and extended her arms out to the sides as she repeated her martial art's stanza switches. Soon her biggest spin came up and beginning it Uno had found the one spot she needed to train her eyes upon as to not get dizzy. She spun her ice skating spin, slowed down and spun faster, then when she began to slow down once again she spun faster, each time opening her arms up to the sides and her legs with them to push her even more. When her spins finally slowed she allowed the momentum to take her, this time keeping her arms and leg sprawled out to the sides; her back arched as her spin slowly died and her face stared out at the audience.

Right when the beats to the song return she began pacing around the chair to her earlier spot on the other side of the center stage. Halfway there she turned and used her hips to sway her closer towards her destination. When she reached it she immediately began dancing her club techniques from AC197, her feet maneuvering to the music that played in her head—in the air for all the rest to hear—her arms kept her balanced by dancing with the beat and with the opposite directions of her feet; her hips danced to the song and she leaned forward to get the better ability to the dance.

When the music danced with the beats so did her movements and Uno stared down to the floor as her hand lifted into the air and her body slid the opposite direction. Her arms then continued dancing to the music as her hips swayed to the beat, her body turning to where the side profile of herself was visible for everyone to view. Uno immediately did a high kick of a martial arts technique and it opened up her ability to drop to the floor like that, one knee bent while the other was stiffly extended out ahead of her. In no more time than when she dropped to the floor her stiff leg bent to match her other one then she suddenly pushed off the floor and got to her feet, her knees still bent as they were. Her hands set upon her knees as she pushed back up to a standing position to continue her earlier dances. She turned her body to one side while her arm shot out across herself towards the other, showing how she can twist herself in any form and fashion to get her job complete. As her arm lowered her body twisted to the opposite side, which, technically, was constantly twisting from side to side as she lowered her hand back to her waist. As her hands gripped her waist Uno sharply nodded her head once before pushing off to the side, a leg trailing behind her and her arms extended outward. By now the foot-stomping sounds had returned and she was quite thankful for the reminding feeling of easement.

Uno knew what was to come next would stun the ballet; hell, it had stunned _her_ ballet when she last danced!

She stepped to the side again and then pushed off and slid once more. She slowly turned around as she headed back to whence she came and instead of pacing herself towards her destination or dancing there she leaped into the air and did a _handless_ cartwheel.

She could have _sworn_ she heard gasps from the audience.

The second she landed Uno spun around and continued spinning until she returned to where she stood before her cartwheel. When she got there she bounced in placed while she did a series of martial art hits with her hands clasped together, then spun around and as she spun a hand shot up into the air in the same spiral-like fashion. Her legs locked in place, her back arched backwards, one hand set firm against her hips, and her other lowered from the air above her, down until it reached her chin-level.

The slowed down just as the dance had and the song died right as she had finished her final pose. So far she had yet to find a flaw in the musicians who played the piece and as she stared out at the audience she couldn't help but feel a sense of victory come over her.

_That'll show them_, she said mentally. Uno remained motionless as she regained her breath—though she didn't appear to even _look_ out of breath—and waited until the right moment to release her pose. When that moment came she took the remaining steps to reach the front of the stage and glanced down at the managers, ignoring the whispering gossips from everyone else.

"Heaven's child!" Cried an outraged Monsieur Firmin. "You call that a dance?" Uno's brows knitted together. "That entire _thing_ is as seductive as the women of the Moulin Rouge!"

Uno groaned inside. _I had a feeling they would assume that._

"Why would you consider dancing like that for an audition when your practice was precisely what we were looking for?" Monsieur Andre chimed in suddenly. Uno frowned and cocked her head to the side.

"Excuse me for asking," she began, "but are you implying that I do just the bare minimum to perform for this theater?"

"_Bare minimum!_" Shouted an enraged Firmin. "How is that the _bare minimum_?"

Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders, keeping her firm eye contact upon the manager's before her. She knew what they were doing; she knew they admired her dance but they were rather worried for their ballet if she danced for them.

"The bare minimum requires just the basics of ballet, if _even_ that. It does _not_ ask you to perform any special tasks, any outrageous movements that separate you from anyone else, and it does _not_ express the nature of your abilities. I am quite flexible, very swift and graceful, I'm also strong enough to complete even the _hardest_ tasks given, and above all, it shows that I'm not afraid to do something far fetched that the general public would shun down," Uno explained. "Even my _own_ ballet mistress was amazed at the work I had done when I performed this same dance in my childhood before eleven-hundred anonymous faces. She was quite taken by my swiftness and gracefulness of my leaps, my twirls, and even my flips; however… I didn't do _nearly_ as _much_ as I had done in my past."

"And why not?" Madam Giry asked. Uno turned to stare the older woman in the eyes.

"Because I knew that I would be accepted without having to try even more than I really needed too," she answered. She turned back to face the managers and smirked when she made the two of them red in the face. "Am I right?"

"Well… w-we do have to say you know how to take an ordinary piece of music and put an outrageous dance to it," Monsieur Andre stammered out. "You do know how to maneuver yourself into any dance and any beat of the music."

"And the song you picked," Firmin spoke up. Uno's eyes narrowed a little. "It's something you _made_?"

That statement alone caused an alarm amongst the crowd. Numerous whispers and gossips began to spread like a trail of mad ants on a sugar streak. Uno took a deep breath and raised her chin even more. She stared directly into the manager's eyes, sending him a determined glare that told him 'no matter what you try and do you will never win this fight.'

"Yes," she said loud enough for all to hear, "I did. I make my _own_ music and I always had. However, given the circumstances, Monsieur Reyer has chosen well picked music and I feel I may not have to choose my own anymore, for he certainly knows how to pick decent operas."

More whispers could be heard and Uno lowered her head to glare straight at Monsieur Firmin. "Tell me, Sir," she paused and glanced at Monsieur Andre quickly before returning to Firmin, "am I or am I _not_ admitted to join the Opera Populaire?"

Both managers were speechless and turned to glance at Madam Giry. She lowered her gaze from staring up at the box seats and returned the direct stare at the two men in charged of the auditions. With a gentle nod of her head Madam Giry admitted permission to allowing Uno the stay in the ballet.

"And I feel," Madam Giry turned to face Uno, "that she most likely has the leading role in our next opera."

Uno's jaw locked in place and she hooked her hands together behind her back. Her fists balled tightly. She bowed her head in thanks.

"I appreciate your approval," Uno forced out through a calm voice. "You won't be disappointed."

"No," Madam Giry frowned suddenly. Uno noticed a flash of worry cross over the older woman's face and she knew why. "I won't."

_That's right Madam Giry,_ Uno berated. _Throw the _hardest_ obstacle in my direction and watch as I _cream_ it with _all_ that I have.

* * *

_

**SO... what do you all think... does it fit pretty well? DO TELL! (overly large grin). And to those who wonder... the 'royal' couple she noticed and had no clue about was their Patron, Viscount Raoul de Changy and Viscountess Christine de Chagny. I can't say much else without spilling the PotO truth and to those who know you'll already know the later explained details. Everyone else... SUFFER! MWUAHAHAHA (coughs-gags-chokes-dies).**


	6. A Moment of Silence

**Attention EVERYBODY!**

**Usually I would post review replies but I received a notice in my box that this site is going to go against it. Now granted, I don't believe in petitioning against something like that, considering the petition says to put your penname and email (so the site administrator knows the names are not made up) but what these petitioners do not realise is that, this site has every right to remove you without telling you ahead of time. Adding your penname is only adding to the list of them removing you.**

**I've been an active member of this website since the early year of 2001 and I do not wish to stop any time soon, like so many of my fellow (or rather, ONCE fellow members) had done. I had lost _Angel0fRebirth_ because of stupid people who felt I was wrong and reported me and without even checking into it or warning me, this site closed out that account and made it IMPOSSIBLE to even access the stories I once posted. Apparently, each time I decide to do something different the site's rules seem to change... bad things happened when I was on _Angel0fRebirth_ and changed some things and same with _Kitty Felone_, by wanting to reply to each review.**

**If you don't wish to be removed from this site, then I urged you all to ignore the petition and do whatever they ask of us. True, the fanfiction Gods feel they can take over our lives of writing (hence the term I always use, fanfiction Gods), but they have given us the opportunity and ability to share our writings with the public at our sole descrection. If you can't understand that and wish for more leinency, then I must tell you to expect worse when you get out into the 'real world', as even with politics, you can't change EVERYTHING and expect the Government to listen to a measily little voice like yours. (What they teach in schools about every voice towards the Government counts is a lie. The Government never listens to the public, the houses and senates do and they rarely even listen to us!)**

**So, unless you wish to forevermore be eternally removed from this site with your current penname/account, then ignore the petition that's being sent around. Trust me, it's for your own good. And unless my reply to the petition and its many signature fans did not get seen, I'll post it here:**

_ATTENTION ALL WRITERS AND READERS! _

_I'd LOVE to add to the list but I'm not; you can just as easily be removed from this site.I have lost Angel0fRebirth (check out that penname if you don't believe me) and I will NOT loose Kitty Felone. While as Angel0fRebirth I had several stories removed without warning and then I found out, while they removed me from the account without even a warning or a notice, they have the right. _

_If you are not careful, they can remove you from the site and not tell you ahead of time; they have the right, unfortunately. If you read the claims, what we're SUPPOSED to read BEFORE we hit that 'I Agree' link, in there, somewhere, it says that they (actually it's just ONE guy who owns this site)has the right to do whatever he pleases to our stuff without telling us at all. _

_Believe me, I know what I'm saying; I have been an active member since the early year of 2001 (with Angel0fRebirth) and similar things such as this HAS happened before. I warn you all; if you do what this petition asks for, you may not be apart of this site any longer. _

_- Kitty Felone _

_PS: Even if you change your penname they/he can still find you!_

* * *

**- Chapter Six -  
**By the time Uno had delivered her few belongings into the dorms she was spent. Several ballerinas had tried to share their comments with her regarding her audition and many of them, if not negative, were stunned at her abilities _and_ her profound manner of speaking. Each time Uno managed to get away from one childish personality she was stopped by another. It wasn't until she growled fiercely and shoved her way through that the crowd of immature fan-girls had let her be. When Uno stormed by Madam Giry in haste—including the two royal faces she saw in the crowd as well—she had hoped the older woman got the hint that she didn't want to speak with anybody. 

Thank God she was alone when she delivered her things into the dorm room. She was ready to slam her balled fists into the next face who tried to comment on her dance, good _or_ bad. She had found two empty drawers in the dresser next to her bed and even though she strongly _wished_ she had her own dresser she stuffed the two drawers filled. She didn't trust a soul in this world or the world where she came from and now she had to suffer with sharing the ability to open and close her personal belongings whenever desired.

_What a fuck,_ she murmured silently when she sat down on the edge of her new bed. _I can't believe this._

Uno groaned and lowered her head, her eyes closing with an oncoming of headaches. She's always hated people since she's lost Theresa and found out Ricky was her enemy. She's lost her trust when that happened, as well! And because of how she got used her entire life dealing with what he really did she wasn't ever ready to _begin_ trusting anew.

The soft and distant sounds of gossip grew louder and nearer and suddenly a clamor of footsteps stomped their way into the dorms. Knitting her brows in wonder, Uno raised her head and glanced over at the staircase that served as a door and led down to the halls below. A flock of petite girls fluttered into the room, spilling out within Uno's personal, private time.

"Jesus fucking Christ—can't I get any personal time to myself around here?" She grumbled beneath her breath.

"You're that new girl," a short, bobbed brunette chirped out. Several other faces turned to see the clad-in-black figure sitting on the edge of a bed, her shoulders slumped forward and her arms braced upon her knees.

"You were amazing earlier," she noted. "I wish I could move like that."

"Who taught you to dance?" A curly red-head asked.

"You were so swift and graceful—I have _never_ seen _anyone_ dance that way," said a curly blonde.

Uno hung her head and closed her eyes. She groaned as several other voices chirped in following the three irritating girls and suddenly the room became a blur of noise.

_Oh _come _on_, she groaned silently.

Uno pushed off the bed and made her way through the crowd silently, pushing aside whoever was in her way. The comments continued blaring into her mind and into her ears and despite how badly she wished she could ignore them, she could not; they were a plague that only grew. When she reached the staircase several other faces arrived and opened their mouths to state their opinions; one girl had thought differently than all the others and it simply made Uno's day.

"I think your dance was nothing but devil magic," she barked out. Uno frowned and glanced at the girl who stood her height but had amazingly straight and fine jet black hair that traveled all the way down to her elbows. "You're nothing but a witch and you cast magic on the managers to get them to allow you to join the ballet. You danced seductively and put a spell on them the way voodoo curses are done—I'm _sure_ of it!"

Uno stood perfectly still and stared into the girl's deep brown eyes. Slowly, a smile crept upon her face and the girl took a frightened step back.

"Thank you," Uno murmured in an amazingly calm tone. "You are the only person who saw through to my true side."

"W-what?" She girl stammered out. "Y-you mean you r-really _are_ a witch?"

"Granted I usually go by the term Shinimegami and I _do_ know how to get things done without magic," Uno added in, "but if you're frightened by my agreeing with you then apparently you were only jealous of my ability to dance in ways that you never will have the knowledge of and have decided upon calling me a witch, dubbing and casting a black shadow across my face, so whenever good things come to me or of me you will be there to remind the rest of the faces in the sea of life that I am nothing other than a witch," she explained, "simply because you do not have the talent that I possess."

The room went perfectly still and silent. Not a breath was released, not a body moved, not even a pair of eyes blinked. Uno continued staring at the girl before her, the same smile spread across her face, charming her way into their pitifully depressing minds of naivety.

She continued on in the same calm and political tone. "But I am not a witch. I am only a mere girl with a talent that matches to that of a Goddess and for that same reason I have had many enemies in my entire life; enemies who were created out of sheer jealousy. You have just begun that list of mine in France—rather, in all of Europe. Thank you," Uno finished, "for starting it. I was literally beginning to worry and fear that I may never have an enemy again and suffer with a herd of fans."

Without another word, Uno turned away and descended the stairs, leaving behind many shocked and stunned faces.

-

By the time it was nightfall Uno had managed to avoid as many faces as possible. When she saw Madam Giry she quickly ducked into another hall and lost the poor woman. If she saw either of the managers she put on her angry expression and stormed right by them—there were usually ballerinas in the back and if they asked she could just say they had angered her. If she saw any of the stars or divas she'd turn and go another direction. When she saw the two royal faces—Raoul and Christine de Chagny—she acted as if she hadn't noticed them, ducked into a corner, and quickly crossed over the hall in front of the huge crowd that passed by, instantly losing them.

Hey, she's had a knack for losing her enemies in the war; why not use her previous trainings in this _new_ life? Otherwise she'd have all this war-knowledge and no way to use it. What a waste it would become!

But now Uno was far away from any faces that could spot her—unless they looked up. Earlier, when it was broad daylight, she had found a staircase in the back of the entire back-department that led to the roof—or rather, a _section_ of the roof. She figured there were other spots where people could step out upon but she never saw it.

_Oh well,_ she said to herself when she looked out across the horizon of the country and winced against the bright light of the sun. _If somebody catches me up here then I'll just leave and find another place to hide._

And making her way back up the stairs she soon stepped back onto the rooftop, only this time it was late at night; actually, to her it was rather early.

_People around here call ten o'clock late,_ she muttered silently. _I call it early._

She slowly shut the door behind herself, as to not sound an alarm to anyone and warn them of her presence on the rooftop; perhaps it could be dangerous to them—just not to her. Uno glanced around, thankful that the sun was set, and was finally able to take in the sights before her. Earlier the sun was so bright she could hardly see a thing, but now she could _clearly_ make out the scenario. Coming out of the corners of the wall and floor of the rooftop was lights from the halls below and in the middle of the rooftop where she stood was a small dome, doing much of the same thing.

Around her stood tall statues of Apollo, the Greek God of Music, and other deities she once studied about. Only, out of all that she saw, Apollo, the one in the furthest corner, was what stood out the most. It was huge, standing tall with arms held out high and Apollo's Lyre clenched tightly in its hands, as if it were screaming out its problems.

Uno felt much the same, too. She felt entirely horrible and at a loss of what to do. She stepped up to the edge of the rooftop besides the statue and looked down at the busy street below. There were busy late-goers out tonight, clearly joyous for some deranged reason, whatever it may be. The city lights were blaring bright colors into the dark sky and as she glanced off at the distance and towards the horizon, Uno felt a sense of aw hit her.

The vision before her was like no other she's ever seen before in her entire life—even when she fought in space. In space, she saw the magnificent beauty of the planet and the others around it, including the moon, but she never had a chance to see the planet's population in a whole. While at sea and beneath the crest of the waves, deep below where light no longer touched the sea floors, she had seen many amazing sights and creatures, but it was nothing compared to seeing humanity as a whole. While she camped out in the forest at her safe houses and saw nature in its prime, she didn't expect mankind to be of the same.

But now, getting the ability to overlook the horizon of Earth and all its many inhabitants, she was given the chance to see, for herself, what exactly she was fighting for. The sounds of near and distant noises came together and formed its own song, giving her a sense of completeness that she never got while fighting in the war. She became so adapt to the sounds of cannon fire, gun shots, explosions, and missile whispers that she forgot how it felt to hear music being made and how it felt to be apart of it. True, she was terrified of starting over and picking up the broken pieces of her life, knowing full well that even if she were to try she'd cut herself—and without Justin here to back her up she'd most likely die from it.

But Uno could hear the distant shouts of people screaming and laughing all mixed together with the sounds of horses whining, galloping, and pulling carriages. She could hear the sound as a whip crackled in the air. She could hear the sounds as late newspaper sellers called out for one final time. Hell, she could hear the sounds of women crying softly!

Uno closed her eyes and hung her head, a sad, slow smile playing across her face. She locked her hands together at the center of her chest and swallowed hard, suppressing the painful thoughts as they surfaced.

"For you, Duo," she murmured to herself. "For you alone I will survive. For you alone, I will start over. For you alone, I will carry on the Maxwell trait and in your name, I pray to you, Shinigami, to keep my soul where it forever and rightfully belongs, in your hands, at all times."


	7. Thorns of a Skull

**Ugh... God how I wish I could answer reviews... but if what people are saying is true and they'll be in trouble for doing that then nope... I'm not giving myself a reason to get in trouble with another account. I saw somebody the other day had actually been from 2001 and are still active in this site and it stunned me, honestly! I thought I was the only one but even so, my original name doesn't work to prove that I began in 2001! Anywho... oh well.**

**I got a warning when I uploaded 'Farewell My Darling' and I know those warnings are true, only with that it's strange, as if it were sent JUST for me! Seriously! I had posted that fic with the lyrics of Metallica's "Die Die My Darling" (I like their version and haven't heard the real version yet) and then I checked the fanfiction website updates and there was an update saying that anybody caught with lyrics in their fic for no reason would be punished... so I removed the lyrics (check out the fic and you see why it doesn't show the lyrics down there at the bottom). Which I had to say was strange cuz the following day when I went to the site, that one update was removed... as if it was meant specifically for me and me alone! (shivers) Freaky... I'm surrounded by ghosts but none of them are the Opera Ghost... damn... (evil glares everyone).**

**

* * *

****- Chapter Seven -  
**He watched the new ballet rat turn away from the roof's edge and retreat inside the building. His eyes narrowed at her posture and the way she walked, signaling to him that she definitely wasn't a native. Being so close to her gave him the ability to see a clear view of her image. He remained in the blackened shadows behind one of the large statues and stared closely at her movements, studied her to learn about a new member of his cast. 

_Uno Maxwell,_ Erik chanted silently. Hearing her name whisper in his thoughts strangely sent a few warning bells tolling in the background. He frowned; what was it about this girl, about Uno, that had sparked his attention?

He peered out from the shadows but remained secretly hidden and got a much closer look at her from what he could see inside the building.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a very long braid, much the way Madam Giry kept hers most of the time. Her face was set and stern but as she gazed out over the horizon Erik could have sworn he saw a hint of softness reach her; however the moment she turned away from the scenario her expression hardened once again. He wondered more about her from that; what thoughts have entered that intelligent mind to make her unhappy.

Erik knew she was intelligent; no doubt about that. With her manner of speaking so politically towards the managers, he was quite impressed. The last time he ever heard that form of speaking he was constructing masonry for the Shah of Persia.

And that was over twenty years ago.

Even her posture was impressive, he had to admit. He never once saw her slouch, despite the corset she wore. He never once saw her shoulders sag or her head loll around unless it was on her own self-conscious. Naturally, Uno Maxwell looked every inch the part of a perfect deity; after all, what deity ever relaxed and slouched in form?

And then when she spoke out loud to no one but the air and some memory named '_Duo_', Erik could have sworn her personality has changed. While she was around other members of the opera she was crude and serious but while she stayed to herself up on the rooftop, whispering out to no one but herself—and him, he silently tallied up—her tone changed to that of sadness and sorrow, as if she had pent up some horrible feat to her subconscious.

"Uno," Erik whispered to himself, "who are you?"

He stepped out into the moonlight and stood where she recently left from. Gazing out over the horizon he furrowed his brows together and contemplated to himself. So little was known about this new girl and it would be hard to figure her out if she kept herself closed to the other ballet rats who loved to gossip on a regular basis. He has yet to hear anything about her except for a discussion she had with a second year ballerina, La Marcella.

Erik felt a smirk reaching his lips. _You best watch what you say, dear Uno. Some of these rats will believe every word about your possible 'black magic', _especially_ those who fear the Opera Ghost._

He knew it was time to scoop up some information regarding this new girl. He had enough information over each member of his theater to blackmail whoever he desired and whenever those times were called for but for Uno he had nothing except for the fear La Marcella has. And there was only one way for that to happen…

Erik put a dark smile on his face and spun around, his cape twirling with him. _It's time the Angel of _Hell_ returns._

-

The following morning Uno was the first to rise. As a matter of fact, she rose two and a half _hours_ earlier. She sat on the side of the bed and gazed around the quiet dorm room. A many of girls around her age were sound asleep in their dreams of passion and lust; she knew it had lust considering the choices of topic these girls bothered to discuss. She stared down at the two drawers in the dresser besides her bed and frowned. There were no locks on them and no way for her to even _put_ a lock on it.

Uno chewed the inside of her cheek and turned away. There _had_ to be a way to lock it up so she would be certain nobody would snoop around in her belongings. Without a lock it would be hard, but she knew of a way.

_I'm not raised by one of the Universe's greatest thieves for nothing,_ she mused silently. _I can rig up something that Houdini would be in aw over._

She slid off the bed and sat down before the dresser, moving silently as to not disturb the sleeping loudmouths. Before her sat the two bottom dresser drawers—_her_ drawers—and reaching up into the back of her neck where the base of her braid began, she brought out a razor blade inside its protected sheath and a tiny lock picking mechanism. She glanced down at the objects in the palms of her hands, silently grinning at her mischievous self.

_Now… to make sure nobody but me could ever open it._ Uno slipped the razor blade out of the tiny plastic sheath and took out one of her long and slender lock picks. She pulled out both of her drawers and began etching a few holes in the tops and bottoms and no sooner than she had began had she finished. She slid them back into the dresser and with a chipped piece of wood she sliced out of the floorboard, she managed to lock both drawers together and lock them to the base _and_ sides of the drawers. To any _normal_ snoop it would be hard to remove every lock out of the way but she wasn't normal, she was perfect and she knew a faster way to slide them out of her way.

With her makeshift locks complete, she slid the razor blade back into the sheath, the lock pick back into where it came from, and then returned both miniature objects into the base of her braid. With thanks to Duo, Uno knew how to not _just_ make and pick locks, but how to steal efficiently, be able to hide things well so they won't get noticed or be known that something's missing, and be stealth.

She stood up and glanced around the room one final time. Quickly straightening up her bed—she never liked leaving things appear touched—she silently made her way downstairs and towards the dressing rooms. Of all places in the theatre she hated the most Uno _had_ to put her dressing room on the top of the list. She didn't get her private dressing room. No. Because she wasn't a famous face in the ballet she had to share her dressing room with about five other girls and _that_ was something she wouldn't be able to lock up.

The room was cold and empty when she entered; just the way she liked it. Uno carefully stepped her way around until she came up to an empty vanity table, armoire, floor length mirror—which was elegantly framed in gold—and a smaller mirror placed on the back of the vanity table. She knew without a doubt that it was hers. There were a few items already placed on the top of the vanity table—she figured Madam Giry had delivered them for her—and a single red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem lying on top of a white envelope.

Uno stepped up to the vanity table with caution. Nobody knew about her just yet so the rose had to have come from one of the members of the crew who enjoyed her audition. She picked up the rose and frowned. All of the thorns were delicately removed but aside from that there wasn't anything else wrong with it. The red rose and black ribbon stuck to her like nothing she's had in her years of constant battle and as she gazed at its beauty she felt a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Apparently whoever had given her the rose feared she may stab herself with the thorns.

"Probably doesn't know that the rose looks better with the thorns still intact," she murmured.

Uno sat the rose back down on the vanity table and picked up the white envelope that recently sat beneath it. It was trimmed in black and the script on the front was as horrible of chicken scratch as her own handwriting when she doesn't have the time to properly write in perfect calligraphy. As she turned the envelope over her breath caught in her throat and the world around her froze. Her eyes widened in fear, her lower lip quivered, and her hands started to shake.

She stared down at the blood red seal of a human skull and felt herself on the verge of exhaustion.

"Duo," she breathed out.

She shut her mouth and swallowed her fear. Gathering her senses together, Uno locked her jaw and carefully opened up the envelope as to not destroy the unique-looking seal.

_If I had known such a seal was possible I would have used _that_ over some stupid flower when Relena taught me calligraphy._ She mused silently. _But the skull…_

Uno forced herself to forget her rising memories and focus only on the letter at hand. She removed the note and opened it up. Inside, more of that horrible handwriting stood before her in black scrawny ink, mocking her for the author's intelligence being under her level.

_Uno,_

_I welcome you to my opera house. You have shown great ability in your audition that I look forward to seeing you perform on stage before many Parisian faces. Just by watching your rehearsals I know I won't be disappointed. Your talent at composing music has, as well, caught my attention and I feel honored to hear a fantastic piece created by your feministic mind._

_I am looking forward to seeing more spectacular things with you now here._

_Your obedient servant,_

_O. G._

_PS: Learn this now: Do **not** disappoint me or you will greatly regret it._

Uno reread the message a second time before snorting at its nonsense. _Me regret disappointing you?_ She scoffed out mentally. _If you're my obedient servant than I believe _you_ should be carefully not to disappoint _me_, you male chauvinistic asshole._

She frowned and stuffed the note back into the envelope and took a seat on the vanity chair. "I can't believe he called me feministic," she muttered softly. "Whoever this asshole thinks he is he'll quickly find out I hate being considered like everyone else, _especially_ right now where all the other girls like me are so damned stupid and naive."

She stared down at the seal of the blood red skull and the rose and chewed on her lower lip. The two put together, for some odd reason, gave her a sense of calamity. It was as if death and beauty belonged together, which she believed anyways.

_So I'm not the only one who believes it's possible to die in peace and in a beautiful way?_ Uno placed the envelope in the top right drawer of the vanity table then picked up the rose. She sighed and laid the rose back down. Some of the other objects that were seated in front of her were make-up boxes and other facial products. She figured they were delivered to her by Madam Giry; after all, the woman kept insisting to Uno that day in the market that she buy some war paint to color up her face. Uno only agreed with the older woman to shut her up but she's hated the products, no matter _what_ the year; unless she was going to a high class, fancy dinner ball where she would _have_ to be on her best appearance to rub shoulders with the government and other high officials she preferred to just look herself and _be_ herself.

The door to the dressing room opened up and two young ballerinas stepped inside. Uno watched as they stepped up to the vanity tables in the make-shift hall before her and never strolled towards the back of the room where Uno was, which was all the more better. They sat down, began brushing their hairs, and began gossiping about their previous dates with some well-known lords and viscounts.

Uno knew her day first had just begun.

* * *

**Everyone who reviews get's a free mondue-bananna split topped with cherries!**


	8. Words of Wisdom

**Ah God how I LOVE writing stories! In this chapter, you will see how Uno adapts to the Parisian society on a whole basis dealing with people her age... how sad, isn't it? Some of you will also notice that I give Madam Giry a much similiar attitude to Uno but there's reasons:  
1) I'm not too sure I can do Madam Giry 100 percent in full.  
And 2) Uno always said she sees Madam Giry as her future self.**

**Also, I notice many fics of the _Phantom of the Opera_ world--including the bookds--have 'Mlle.', 'Mm.', and 'M.' for the abbreviations of Madamoisselle(sp), Madam, and Monsieur and if you're wondering whyI don't do that... SIMPLE!  
1) Not ALL of you readers out there came to this fic to see the Phantom; in fact, half of you followed Uno from the Gundam Wing genre so you wouldn't know what those abbreviations stand for.  
And 2) I find it stupid if you can just write the measily name in itself. Gastron Leroux didn't because he wanted to abbreviate it to help the story flow better, but you still end up pronouncing it the way its supposed to be, right? Or do u just skip it and say 'Giry', 'Firmin', or 'Daae'?**

**And yes I know, my author's note has many spelling errors in it. I DON'T CARE! Now read and review this chapter and BE HAPPY! THIS IS 21 PAGES! And keep in mind, I don't measure pages by print size... I measure them by book margins... so to you they may be less but to me, this chapter is 21 pages perfectly. The story itself (with the many authors note at the top of the whole thing) is 121 pages entirely.**

**By the way... those who know of Uno from Duo's Child 1, will remember the scene in the beginning of the fic. Now don't cry, remembering her childhood and her youthful stages in life and what happened at the end of the story to make her the way she is now. I actually copied and pasted it into this chapter and all I did was fix up the wording to better fit my style of writing nowadays.**

**And I just finished rereading a few chapters of Duo's Child 1. Lord have mercy... I think I'm gonna have to reread it all to remind myself just how cute and lovable Uno used to be then read Duo's Child 2 to see what's caused her to change so dramatically.**

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**- Chapter Eight -**

When lunchtime came and the corpse de ballet was given their period of break, Uno found herself entering the café in a daze. The last time she had an actual meal she had a large family, friends, and a strong relationship. The last time she actually had hot food she was living a life of innocence and oblivious. The last time she recalled being able to even eat a pastry and have a cup of coffee she was going to school.

And _that_ hadn't been in her life for almost ten years.

The thought of the school in her childhood years brought a sad memory to her mind. It reminded her of how free she was in her youth. The memory showed her how full a heart she once held and how not long after that full heart was ripped out of her chest.

But with the scent of food lingering in the air, those old memories resurfaced and they weren't entirely horrible; in fact, one of them was when Duo first taught her the key ingredient to a balanced meal.

What was it he used to tell her?

_In the kitchen sat Uno on the chair on her knees and Duo besides her, eating cereal. Lucky Charms was the choice he chose and Uno was already pigging out just as he._

_"See Uno…" Duo swallowed. "Your first step in my training is learning how to eat."  
"…But Duo…I know how to eat." Uno's innocent, confused face made Duo halt in his next scoop of Lucky Charms and smile down at her. She was just too cute with her little questions.  
"…I mean…eating fast. Ya' never know when you'll be attacked, so it's best to remain on guard at all times. And besides, they say you can't do much on an empty tummy. So therefore, try and finish rather quickly. Once you feel it hurt then you can stop. But never stop until you feel it or you run out. Got it?"  
"…" Uno nodded as she ate.  
"Good, part of your test will be to see how fast you can…'pig out'. Also, they say it's bad to do anything on a completely full tummy too, so to prevent this, don't stuff yourself too much, okay? You can, but only if you go slow then move the pace up a lil' until you're able to accomplish it like nothing."  
"Me done." Uno smiled as she pushed her bowl away.  
"Uno…you still hungry?" She nodded a little. "Then more you eat." Duo poured more Lucky Charms in her cereal and milk after then handed her back the bowl. She began to pig out again.  
About an hour after eating their big breakfast of nothing but Lucky Charms, Duo stood and put the dishes away in the sink then turned to Uno.  
"Also…drink as much milk as you can. Don't want to have you breaking bones that fast." Duo left the kitchen with Uno trailing behind and headed towards one of the many offices in the mansion._

A bright smile threatened its way to her face but she caught it just in time. There was no way in hell Uno was going to give any of these ballerinas a chance to see her 'pleased' with anything. If anything, she would only settle for satisfaction; never pleasant thoughts. She pushed the happy memory to the side and kept herself focused on the café and the hot foods before her. Madam Giry stated that they required money and with a little of her past talents, Uno had managed to pocket a few franc notes from Monsieur Firmin.

_Not like he'll need any of it,_ she commented as she silently stole away from him and towards the café.

Uno saw a few familiar faces of the ballet swarm in around her and although her past war-self was thinking about backing away and letting them go at it her grumbling stomach kept her in line. Soon, petite bodies gathered around her with their soft and high pitched voices, gossip lingered in the air, and the scents of different perspirations fumed around her nostrils.

When she finally reached the buffet she paid in full for a few pastries and a cup of coffee then found an empty table to sit at and enjoy her meal silently. She watched as the group of girls chatted to each other and paid no attention to anyone around them. Uno didn't mind, however; in fact, she would rather they never know she even existed. She took a few sips of her coffee and cringed; the taste was _strong_ and spiced. She turned her head away and coughed softly.

"Christ," she spat out, "the French sure like their flavors."

"Be careful with the coffee," said a soft feminine voice. Uno snapped her head up to see a petite girl with long blonde hair caressing her back and a warm smile on her face. "The coffee tends to be a bit strong. Maman rarely even drinks it, insisting that it gives a woman too _much_ energy than what she requires."

Uno frowned. "Come again?"

The blonde took a seat across from Uno and sat down her plate and cup of tea. Uno glanced at the girl's meal and saw only a single pastry—a rather _small_ pastry.

"If you drink the coffee you'll find out it'll give you enough energy to make you pass out by noon and Maman won't approve of that," she carried on. She turned away from Uno and began to pick up her cup of tea. "Especially if you're new but I'm pretty sure Maman would let you go for this one time."

"Who are you?" Uno asked rudely, cutting into the girl's speech. "And who is this 'Maman'?"

The girl paused and stared at Uno with slight shock before giggling and replacing her previous smile. "Forgive me," she giggled out. A hand rose to cover her mouth and shield her mild laughter. "I forget you are from America."

Uno's brows knitted together and her eyes narrowed a slight bit. "Why does it matter where I'm from?"

The girl lowered her hand and calmed herself down. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "my name's Meg. Madam Giry is my mother."

Uno nodded her head slowly and made an 'o' shape with her lips. "I see."

Meg nodded. "You don't mind me sharing the meal with you, do you? You are new here and I figured to give you a warm welcome before you get the wrong impression from several of the other members of the corpse de ballet."

"A bit late for that," Uno scoffed out before picking up one of her pastries. "I've already been dubbed a witch."

"La Marcella?" Meg asked. Uno was about to take a bite and paused to give Meg a weary stare. "She's a second year ballerina and she's been giving many dancers a hard time, especially those she feels threatened by."

Uno snorted. "What's to fear from me?" She took a bite and lowered her gaze back down to the plate. "The only thing to fear from me is if you piss me off," she added in when she swallowed her bite and move in to take another.

Meg gave her a curious stare from her choice of words then shrugged it off. She noticed the two other pastries Uno had on the plate and the size of the coffee then gawked at the American seated across from her.

"You bought so much!" Meg spat out in amazement. "There will be no way for you to eat all of it in time to return to rehearsals _and_ still feel comfortable to dance. Maman will _not_ approve of it."

"Then don't tell her," Uno said as she swallowed her bite. She blew off the stunned expression of the petite blonde seated across from her and stuffed her mouth with the final piece of the large pastry.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Uno added in.

"Your table manners are horrible," Meg commented. "Are _all_ American's like you?"

"I wouldn't know," Uno said when she cleared her mouth. She gazed up at Meg seriously and began lifting up her cup of coffee. "Most American's stayed away from me because I wasn't a native in their eyes."

Meg's eyes widened and she leaned in closer. Uno took a sip of her coffee, capable of handling the strong taste now that she could prepare for it. The atmosphere of the room became thick with a wave of noise and different voices, but Uno knew how to drown them all out and focus on only mild sounds, which she did with Meg since the room grew loud suddenly.

"You're not a true American?" Uno shook her head and set the mug back down. "But… Maman had told me you are from America."

"Yeah well," Uno shrugged her shoulders and picked up her second pastry, "what does she know? She tended to my aid and for that I'm thankful but it doesn't make her my friend."

Meg frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't befriend people that easily," Uno turned to stare into Meg's eyes with a seriousness that Meg hadn't seen in anyone's eyes except for the phantoms' in the little chances she had to catch. "Because I'm different and people get jealous of me the only friends I managed to get in my lifetime were just around my creditability. Nobody can move as well as I can and they don't know half as much as what I can conjure up in only a manner of nanoseconds."

"Nanoseconds?"

"It's half of a second," Uno explained. "I can speak sixteen different languages, I can _write _about thirty-two, I can handle any speed that will break the sound barrier, I can take loads of pain from several inflictions, and I can conquer _any_ competition in the Olympics."

Meg's mouth gaped open and her eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Sixteen languages?" Without bothering to say anything Uno swallowed her bite and took another out of the pastry in her hand. "How old are you, Uno?"

Uno paused and glanced off to the side. _Good question,_ she replied mentally. She frowned and turned back to Meg's gaping stare. _The last I checked I jumped back in time and in months… they consider this August and where I came from it was October._

"I'm fifteen," Uno replied. "I'll be sixteen in two months."

"You're only fifteen and you know this much?" Meg gawked out. "Who did you have for a tutor?"

Uno nodded down at Meg's plate. "If you don't eat anything you won't have the energy to withstand anymore dancing and if what you tell me about the ballet mistress is true then I don't think you'd want to risk your life."

Meg frowned and pulled back into her chair. "Good point," she murmured out, looking down at her untouched pastry. Compared to Uno's three her plate appeared rather empty. Just as Meg lifted up her pastry a thought occurred to her and she leaned back over the table.

"How can you afford to buy three pastries and a cup of coffee with the little money Maman gave you? A ballerina can't afford much to begin with."

"I know," Uno replied nonchalantly while staring into the recently taken bite of her final pastry.

"How did you afford it?"

"I have my ways," Uno said. She took another bite—a rather large bite—to hint to Meg that she would rather finish her meal then talk anymore. The silence stretched on for a good few minutes while both girls finished their meals. When they finally had nothing else to eat and half of their drinks left Meg came out with another thought.

"Has anyone told you the stories about the Opera Populaire?"

Uno was staring into the mocha color of her coffee then froze and darted her eyes towards the gossiping ballerina sitting across from her. There was a twinkle of interest in the young girl's blue eyes that Uno had noticed in many other young ballerinas.

"Stories?" Uno lowered her voice. "Does it have to do with the legendary Opera Ghost?"

Meg's eyes widened and her voice broke. "You heard of him?"

Uno snorted out her reply. "I think he's the one who left me a note on my vanity table in the dressing rooms." Meg's mouth dropped. "Either that, somebody _else_ signed it 'O. G.'"

"H-he sent you a letter?" Meg couldn't withstand gawking at the girl across from her.

"He's got good taste," Uno shrugged off the topic as if it were any other subject to talk about. "I'll give him that and he knows how to get around."

"Good taste—what do you mean?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "A blood red skull seal, a red rose with a black ribbon tied to the stem," Uno explained. "Although I will have to say the rose would have looked much better had he not trimmed off the thorns."

"He sent you a rose?" Meg gasped. Uno's brows knitted together and she glanced up at the gaping ballerina across from her. "Are you serious? He sent you a rose?"

"Unless 'O.G.' meant something other than Opera Ghost and somebody felt to give this cold-hearted bitch a rose, I do believe he did." Uno noticed Meg's face turning a bright red and she frowned. "What?"

"N-nothing," Meg murmured out. She sheepishly glanced away. "Your vocabulary is… well… alien to me."

Uno's mouth parted and froze. "Oh—I forgot, you're not used to street talk."

"Street talk?" Meg asked in wonder. "You lived on the streets?"

"Yep."

"Were you…" her voice lowered, "a whore?"

A flash of anger streaked across Uno's eyes and with great determination she managed to suppress the sensation to explode. _She's just a stupid girl,_ her mind reeled back. _Let her be—she's just a stupid girl who has yet to open her eyes and see the world around her._

"No," Uno growled out. "I was poverty when I was little—but forget the past. It's done and over with and it belongs in the past."

Meg nodded and turned away. "Right, sorry."

"Hn," Uno snorted back.

"So," Meg returned with her recent curious gaze and gave a weak smile, "how do you know 'O.G.' stands for Opera Ghost?"

Uno's brows knit in worry. "Are you really that stupid?" Meg gasped. "Let's see… Madam Giry mentioned a ghost within the building and this building _is_ an opera house, is it not?"

"You pieced all that together in only a day?" Meg said in amazement. Uno blew it off and took another sip of her coffee. "You really are amazing."

"I get that enough," she murmured back.

"Do you know anything else about him?" Meg asked wondrous. "Has Maman told you anything else about him at all?"

"Well now I know it's a 'he'," Uno shot back with a devilish grin. Meg frowned and leaned back in her seat. "You just said 'him'."

The look of the blonde's gaping mouth and widened eyes almost made Uno was to crack up laughing.

Almost.

She would have if she had Theresa around; that girl knew how to make even Heero laugh and Heero was nothing but a cold blooded machine.

"But… besides that?" Meg asked with what Uno noticed was sheer curiosity. "That's all you know?"

"What does it matter?" Uno asked wearily. "Should I know more?"

"No," Meg spat out in such a rush Uno knew she was hiding something. "I was just curious."

"Uh huh."

"I must say, though, you really know how to put the managers in a state of shock. Not only did you scare them by reminding them that they didn't own the Opera Populaire but you knew how to trap them into allowing you to dance in the ballet."

"I have a talent," Uno murmured before gazing back into her cooled-off coffee. "I won't answer to anyone unless I have no other choice and it's fatal if I don't abide."

"Wow," Meg slurred out. "I bet the owner would be stunned at how well you handled them."

Uno's brows knitted together as her eyes moved out to the side but she stayed motionless. "The ghost was," she mumbled out. "In fact… he said not to disappoint him."

"He did?" Uno nodded and her frown grew deeper. "He may take a liking to having you around. He hasn't fancied anyone except for Maman since Christine left and even with Maman he's not the same."

"Who's Christine?" Uno returned to the young girl before her. "And what's it got to do with me?"

"Oh," Meg froze and stared at Uno in fear, as if she had just said too much. "Well… Christine used to be a ballerina here."

"What happened?"

Meg turned away sheepishly and stared down into her empty glass of tea. "She… she became the diva and the owner became so obsessed with her he fought for her."

Uno's eyes narrowed. "Viscount Raoul de Chagny."

Meg nodded. "Raoul and Christine were childhood sweethearts and he was mad that she would leave with Raoul." Uno leaned in closer as Meg's voice lowered to a whisper. "He tried to steal her away from the stage in the middle of an act, in the middle of the opera he made and threatened the managers to put on. We don't know what went on down below in the cellars but Christine and Raoul left immediately and fled from Paris. The both of them looked horribly disheveled; Raoul looked worse."

"I see," Uno narrowed her eyes and continued to listen to the story.

Meg nodded. "After the fire, Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin received a letter from him with enough franc notes to rebuild the opera so long as they admit he was in control."

"Hence the reason they were frightened when I mentioned the owner's possession of work," Uno added in. Meg nodded her head, her eyes still fixated on the cup at hand.

"He's in possession of all our contracts and although he will never dispose of ours Maman still fears he would if he is displeased."

Uno turned away and stared down into her own cup. "He added into the note not to displease him."

Meg's gaze snapped up to Uno and the look of fright was etched onto her face. Uno frowned at her and slowly turned her head to fully face the blonde's. "H-he did?"

"Yeah."

"You must not do such a thing then," Meg warned her. "You must _never_ give him reason to be angry."

A smirk played across Uno's features. "And what would happen if I did?"

"Uno," Meg slurred out with fear. "You mustn't!"

"Would he try and steal me off the stage as well?" She mocked. "Try and burn me alive in Hell?"

"Uno—Christine said he goes by the name the _Angel_ of Hell," Meg warned her. "If you do such a thing as to anger him then he would surely let you know."

"He goes by the Angel of Hell, you say?" Uno smiled back, a rather amused sparkle of interest in her own eyes. "Then I guess he wouldn't want to mess with me, being an Angel of Hell, myself."

"Y-you're considered the Angel of Hell in America?" Meg frowned. Uno's brow knit together in thought and she stared down into her cup of coffee.

"Well," she admitted, "to some I was known as that."

"What did everyone else know you by?" Meg asked curiously. Uno raised her head and stared into the young girl's blue eyes. She pressed her lips together into a thin line and debated on whether or not to tell the truth.

She chose not to.

"What does it matter," Uno turned away suddenly and leaned back in her chair. "It's in the past."

Meg frowned and slowly nodded. Suddenly, the door to the café burst open and Madam Giry fumed at the many ballerinas still sitting around talking.

"Oh no!" Meg shot to her feet in fear. Uno frowned up at the timid—yet now terrified—girl.

"I called for rehearsals over ten minutes ago and I _still_ have yet to receive either one of you!" The woman roared out. All the ballerinas got to their feet in an instant and piled out of the room and towards the halls. Madam Giry turned to her daughter and fumed.

"Meg Giry, what need have you to miss out on a rehearsal?"

"Sorry Maman!" Meg blurted out as she rushed out of the café and followed behind the many other rushing bodies of the ballet.

Madam Giry turned to see Uno taking her time to stand up from the chair and carry her finished meal towards the counters to be cleaned. "And you," she began, "should be with them as well."

"Give me a break," Uno rolled her eyes. She turned around and regarded the older woman. "I didn't know when we were even _due_ back on the stage."

Madam Giry's eyes widened and she stared at the younger ballerina before her. "You know you have one hour to spend on your break," she explained. "Not one hour and ten minutes."

Uno shrugged her shoulders and blew it off. "So I'll stay later and practice more. Not like I enjoy being around everyone else anyways." Uno passed by Madam Giry with the air of boredom and stepped into the halls.

-

He claimed his usual seat in Box Five and adjusted his cloak to better wrap around his body. From where he sat, Erik could easily make out the silhouettes of several ballerinas stretching and the irritating diva strutting around on the stage. Erik loathed La Carlotta but to keep his opera house packed in full capacity he had to let her take the stage. Her voice sounded much worse than a school teacher scratching her nails on the chalkboard to punish her disobedient students. Part of him wanted to make her croak again but that would terrify the managers; after all, they had lost a chandelier due to her horrible croaking.

_And then another when I lost my temper and stole away from the stage,_ He added in mentally.

La Marcella danced her way to the center of the stage and Erik groaned inside. Out of all the dancers he didn't know why La Marcella got the lead. She was just as cold as La Carlotta and perhaps would sing the same if she had a voice for that talent; her dancing was already capable of matching to it.

Whenever she glided across the stage the other ballerinas could feel her footsteps and as Erik watched her leap into the air her arms fluttered out to the side like that of the tail of a cat trying its best to stay balanced. She was not at all as graceful as a butterfly.

_Or a swan_, he challenged. When he watched Uno dance she was graceful as a swan, the way a ballet _should_ be danced. She didn't just linger in the air but she swiftly maneuvered herself to fit the character's part and play the role. No doubt she would make an excellent star.

_But do I really want to play at that again?_ He frowned down at Madam Giry as the woman stepped onto stage and glanced around. He knew what the matter was; the ballet was no where in sight.

"Perhaps they are listening to that witch's spells," La Marcella chimed out. "After all, she put a spell on the managers to be accepted into the ballet. They are probably asking her to put a spell on their lovers."

"Enough with you, Marcella," Madam Giry barked out. "Back to your steps."

A smirk formed on Erik's lips. He could so easily use his ventriloquism on her, to startle her and make her trip off balance. It would be fun. But no, he had to let the ballet go as planned. After Christine he wouldn't _dare_ defile another opera for fear the management will be too terrified to stay and run his theater.

_With my luck they will flee in the middle of the night and leave me alone to run the theater myself._

Erik had no qualms about running the theater on his own. After all, he could probably run it more efficiently than they. But it was the little matter of publicity he didn't want to deal with. If Paris learnt that a masked man—the Phantom, nonetheless—had owned and ran the Opera Populaire not only would his whereabouts be revealed for Raoul's mob of in-vain murders but his theater would definitely lose business.

_And it's crew_, he admitted dryly.

In less than a minute a flock of colorful hairs filtered onto the stage and the corpse de ballet began to warm up. But there was no ballet mistress and after Meg appeared, he realized the American wasn't around either. He frowned and watched as Meg whispered a few things to a fellow ballerina before turning away herself and retreating to the center stage. No sooner than he expected, Uno appeared on stage with her long brown hair coiled up into a bun on her head and Madam Giry behind her, however appearing rather disturbed.

Erik smirked. Since the American arrived the poor woman's been more and more disheveled. She'd had to tend to the ballet's requirements, to her daughter's needs, and now to Uno's, as if Uno were a second daughter to her.

Erik tore his thoughts away from the woman and the new ballet rat immediately. He _won't_ think like that! He's already lost one of his ballerinas to a stupid assumption, he _won't_ lose another! Thanks to his spoiled ways he had caused Madam Giry to lose one of her 'daughters' in a quick fashion. That poor woman had enough problems to deal with; Erik _won't_ give her another one.

_And Christine,_ he closed his eyes as the memory resurfacing chewed at his subconscious. That poor girl has lost her father and looked up at Madam Giry as a mother for the many years she's lived in this building. It hurt him more to know that, with many thanks to him, she had to flee from the memories residing in the opera house and flee from the woman's motherly grasp.

And into his arch rival's.

"Uno you are doing well," Madam Giry's voice cut through his mind and brought him back into reality. Erik opened his eyes to see the young American dancing gracefully on stage, alone, with everyone else surrounding her in aw.

"Excellent," Madam Giry raised her chin. "I see you have learned fast, the steps to the dance."

A smirk reached Erik's lips; the young ballerina had a talent.

"Yes ma'am," she said when she ceased her dancing. She held her own head high and squared her shoulders back, as if she were ready to do combat with the ballet mistress. "I have taken long recitals to the dance steps you have given us all."

"And yet," Madam Giry regarded here for a moment, "those were on paper." Uno nodded her head. "How did you come of it?"

"When I did my audition," Uno explained, "I memorized the units of this stage."

"Units?" Madam Giry questioned. Erik noticed Uno had closed her eyes and clenched her teeth shut. Little did she know, he heard what she had murmured beneath her breath.

"_Baka_." She opened her eyes and forced a smile on her lips. "I memorized the measurements of this stage floor to know where to move in the given steps you gave us—which were very little, need I remind you."

The woman nodded in acceptance of her answer. Erik, as well, had to nod at that. She was _far_ more talented than La Marcella.

Perhaps he had done wrong in not enlisting her as the lead star for the ballet?

"Witch," Marcella mumbled. Erik pressed his lips together and balled his fists, his thumb joins popping with the pressure he squeezed. He watched Madam Giry step up to the prima ballerina and stare her in the eyes.

"You call one of my best ballerinas a witch simple because you can not prove to compete against her?" The woman pondered aloud. Erik forced back a chuckle that threatened to rise in his throat. "Just for that you call her a witch?"

La Marcella stared dumbly at the ballet mistress and gawked. Madam Giry only stared at her prima ballerina with victory laced in her eyes, a trait Erik once learned in his childhood that usually meant the opponent had given up.

"You must remember, La Marcella," Madam Giry paused to gaze into each pair of eyes that stood behind the star ballerina before returning back into the girl's stunned face, "The owner must have had a reason to give _you_ the lead when many other ballerinas, _not_ including Uno, prove to be a much better dancer in their best."

"But their best is hardly visible," La Marcella murmured back. Madam Giry bowed her head in acceptance.

"That is the truth," she admitted. Turning around, she raised her voice to add in, "But until Uno came along, he believed you to be the better choice for you did not dare hide what you knew."

And Erik knew then, at that moment, who to cast as the prima ballerina from hence forward.

-

"That is enough for today," Madam Giry called out. Several dancers halted their steps and regained their balance on both feet. They turned around to face the ballet mistress.

"You have all proven yourselves for today's actions at the break and for that I will not hold you after. You are dismissed for the evening but tomorrow I do not wish to see the same mistake or you _will_ be punished."

The ballerinas gleamed after the woman's comment and scurried away to quickly change out of their clothes and do something they considered fun. Uno, on the other hand, stayed out of the gathering of petite bodies and kept to herself in the back of the stage. Madam Giry spotted her not moving and raised her head.

"Uno, you wish to stay behind?" She asked with weary.

Uno leaned on one leg as she bent down the other to stretch it. "I'd rather stay and practice more," she said without breathing harshly due to her current movements. Madam Giry took the few steps she required to close the gap between the two and looked at her new—yet already best—student.

"How much more do you plan on rehearsing?" She asked with concern. "You have already proven to be one of my best students and today is only your first day here."

"Yeah well," Uno paused and stood back up after stretched the other leg out the same way, "I don't think I can just sit back and relax when in three to four weeks we're dancing in front of everyone."

"I am sure you will be alright," the woman insisted. "After your performance for the audition yesterday I'm certain there is nothing you _can't_ do when it comes to ballet."

Uno snorted at that. "You have _no_ idea," she scoffed out. She turned to send a wicked smile to the woman before replacing it with her usual cold expression. "But I don't feel I'm finished."

"How much longer do you plan to spend today?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders and circled around the woman until she stepped back onto the center stage. "Don't know," she called back over her shoulder. "Perhaps when I feel I have it completed."

Madam Giry gazed at her with amazement. "Uno," she called out, stunned, "you cannot learn all the steps in one day. 'Tis impossible!"

"Watch me," Uno shot back. She raised her arms above her head and gazed up into the ceiling, as if trying to seek out some God that was lurking above her. "There's never been a challenge that I couldn't complete."

Madam Giry pressed her lips together to keep from further pressing the subject. Instead, she turned down another approach. "Uno… there are only a few steps to learn for the first act of the play. What do you plan to do once you learn these? Surely you can't continue until you've heard the music from Monsieur Reyer to know what is expected."

Part of Uno's mind wanted to tell the woman off for once and for all, to tell her that she knows the music because when she was a child _her_ ballet mistress had a knack for eighteenth-century operas.

But she held her tongue and kept from being further a crude 'witch'.

"I want to get better," Uno said instead. "Perhaps the next auditions they'll hold I'll get a better part. After all, I haven't danced sine I was—what did I say, nine, was it?—and being in this era I wasn't sure what they expected."

"So you danced your dances from _your_ century?" Madam Giry said in aghast.

Uno shrugged her shoulders and twirled around in place then leaped in the air to land on another toe. "Well," she said as she twirled in place. Suddenly, her twirling stopped and she slowed down to a spiral then suddenly stood still. She hung her head, the weight of her braid wrapped up into a bun on her head like heavy weights on her head and neck.

"I wasn't sure I would get in and I was determined to do so," she added in. "And the only way I know how to do that is by being _certain_ that I would get in."

"I heard La Marcella and her circle speak of witchcraft," Madam Giry said softly, as if warning Uno of her unwatched words. Uno turned to stare at the older woman with a hint of frustration on her features.

"You must watch your every step," the woman added in, "for they will be watching yours."

"Good," Uno said through a wicked grin. The woman's brows knitted together in worry and Uno turned around to face her fully. "I _want_ them to see me."

"But why, Uno? Why give them something to use against your?"

"I know how to break out of a tight bond," Uno explained. "And if they try their hardest to get rid of me they'll find out that I can look death in the eyes and stand rigid. I won't hide from them, I won't change what I do to please them, and I won't watch whatever I do to please _you_."

"But you could be in danger," the woman expressed with worry. Uno noticed the grip on her cane tightened and her knuckles have turned white. "Even Carlotta sneered at you for stealing her fame for the few minutes you were on stage. Now stealing the light from a diva by a ballerina is a large task and you have taken _two_ lights, at that. La Carlotta's and La Marcella's, both of them prime divas and ballerinas."

"And both of them are horrible," Uno shot back fiercely. "La Carlotta would sound better singing the Requiem Mass—if she could even sing _that_—and La Marcella would be better off dancing topless at a bar—or in _your_ century's case, at the Moulin Rouge."

Madam Giry turned away and sighed. "La Carlotta I understand, but La Marcella has proven herself one of my best dancers by far. Her graceful footing is swift and airless."

"Apparently to your tastes but to not someone who's much better than her," Uno retaliated. The woman gazed at her in confusion. "Admit it, since you saw what I could do you were turned away from her faulty steps."

"Faulty?" Madam Giry gasped out loud.

"Of course," Uno replied casually, a smile charming her lips. She stared at the woman before her with her wicked, victorious grin.

"W-why would you insist such a thing?"

"It's true then," Uno turned away and walked to the side of the stage where she had recently departed from when the other ballerinas left. "You're denying it and therefore you know I am right. La Marcella's footings are heavy on the floor and not as graceful as you would like them to be. When she leaps in the air she is not as swift as you tried to get her to leap and when she lands you can hear it across the auditorium and also feel it on the stage, vibrating from her steps."

"Uno," the woman gasped.

Uno turned around slowly and lowered her head so her eyes stared the woman in the right angle to warn her away. "You know I'm right."

"How… you are unbelievable," Madam Giry breathed out in shock. "How did you…?"

"How did I conjure all of that up?" Uno asked. She threw her head back and barked out a short laugh. "Oh I've always loved puzzles. I used to spend hours with an old friend, lingering in the halls of the school when the plays of drama class ended, watching and learning from them. Theresa never understood how I could learn so well what was going on, but I knew without really having to think, that it was just some little puzzle, some little mind game they played on each other."

"What are you talking about?" The older woman frowned. Uno stepped up towards her and stared her deep into the eyes. Without raising her voice, she explained her secret.

"Most people can read a person through their eyes," Uno paused to see Madam Giry's eyes darting to every feature on the younger ballerina's face. "But I can read body language. I have learned that ability far in my youth and I've enjoyed using it. That's why I always stayed after the plays finished and watched the crew filter out of the building into their own worlds. Theresa never understood why I watched them so well and commented on them—I never told her, anyways."

"You observe," Madam Giry said dryly, a bit nervous for being so close to a student who's managed to alarm her when only one other person in all her life managed to do that. "You observe your surroundings and take it to memory."

Uno turned away and blew her off. "With where I came from I have to be."

"So what do you plan to do now?" Madam Giry called out. Uno turned around and gazed at her. "La Marcella has it that you are a witch, the managers are a wee bit stunned at you, the ballet believes you to be a miracle for how you performed today, and already my daughter Meg has befriended you. What do you plan to do? Take La Marcella's spotlight? Continue being a ballerina in the ballet?"

"I don't know," Uno said honestly. "For the first time in my life I have no idea what to do from here and where to go. I don't know how I got here and why I was sent here but until I can figure out a reason I don't plan for anything to happen."

The woman nodded her head. "Alright then," she said seriously. "Perhaps you will remain a ballerina and when I retire you will wish to take my job."

Uno gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Not a bad idea, though I'll end up being a stricter ballet mistress than yourself. But as I said, we'll see. I'm not much of a leader, seeing as while on the battlefield I went off on my own and nearly wound up dead several times."

Madam Giry lowered her gaze to the floor and frowned. "You must remember you are not alone, Uno. Your words will bring weary to those who may be listening in. Your words may bring you more harm than you can believe possible. They may sign you away into the asylum."

Uno shrugged once again. "Then I'll break out."

The woman's gaze snapped back up into the young girl's direction. "Out of reinforced steel walls?"

Uno frowned and turned away with a mumble. "Forget that idea."

"Uno please," she tried again. Uno turned back to see the woman before her, extending a hand out to her and still gripping the cane rather roughly. "You have no idea the danger you put yourself in."

"I won't watch what I do," Uno snapped. "True, I have to watch what I say and to whom I say things but I won't change my personality just to fit society. I never liked doing it in my childhood and I won't do it in my adulthood. I can _act_ however I please without a care in the world but I won't _change_ for it."

"Then _act_ different," Madam Giry urged on, "for your sake and mine."

Uno frowned then. "What do _you_ have to do with me?"

"I've nursed you back to health, child. Do you not remember? I have asked the managers to give you an audition and if not for me the owner would have not granted you the permission to join the ballet."

"Ah yes," Uno turned away and with a smile she stared out at the endless sea of velvet seating in the auditorium where an invisible audience watched their argument. "The legendary Opera Ghost who adores blood red skulls and thornless roses tied with a black ribbon."

The color drained from the woman's already pale face. "You have heard from him?"

"You mean that chauvinistic asshole who thinks he owns my very breath?" Uno turned back to the woman. "Yeah he left me a letter on my vanity table that welcomed me here."

The woman gasped at her. "He…?"

"Said not to disappoint him either," Uno added in bitterly.

"You must listen to his warnings then, Uno," Madam Giry urged on. "You have no idea the intensity of his threats. If you displease him in any way you _will_ greatly regret it!"

Uno sighed heavily and lolled her head back, the weight of her thick bun finally straining her neck. "Madam Giry—please," Uno breathed out. "I won't listen to anyone who insists on calling me feministic."

"But—but Uno," she tried again. Uno hung her head and closed her eyes. "If he sent you these things you _must_ do as he says."

"Chauvinistic asshole," Uno murmured.

"Uno!" Madam Giry gasped. "Please stop this nonsense at _once_!"

"_What_?" Uno barked back. "He _is_!"

"Uno!"

"_Listen_ to me!" Uno roared out, her voice breaking the silence across the entire auditorium. Madam Giry pressed her lips together and shut her eyes. "If he thinks he can tell me what I can and cannot do then he's got another thing coming! The last group of people who told me what to do learned the hard way that I do thing on _my_ own agenda and _not_ according to _theirs_. I am _not_ feministic which he believes. I do _not_ feel threatened by his _warning_ but rather the opposite; it triggered anger, _not_ fear! I don't let people run my life for me, to tell me what to do, what to wear, what to eat. I don't let people guide me through life by holding my hand. If I can't do it on my own then I will ask for help but that's it; I won't accept pity because I'm a woman and I appear helpless."

"Uno," Madam Giry whispered, her eyes opened but transfixed on the stage floor between their bodies.

Uno acted as if she had not heard the woman's soft plea. "Hell, I'm twice as strong and smart as _half_ the men I grew up with and those guys were much stronger and smarter than anyone I have seen around here, so far." She paused to catch her breath and felt her blood boiling deep within her body. Balling her fists and forcing her composure to regain itself, Uno turned away from the woman and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"I am not a caged animal, Madam Giry," Uno bit out sharply between clenched teeth. "And I will not be treated as one."

And with that, she spun on her heels and fled from the stage as swiftly and airlessly as she had danced only hours before. Madam Giry stayed motionless and dared not to lift her head. She stared at the ground and waited until her own pacing heart slowed back down. From off in the distance she could hear the doors being opened and closed, amazingly without being slammed for a girl who recently lost her temper and shouted at the top of her lungs to an older woman.

A woman who the last time has seen a similar action done was to a younger boy who demanded things to be done his way or let death claim the others. At that time she was still a ballerina, secretly tending to the needs of a hidden shadow in the back of the opera house that lived in the crevices of all the cracks in the building. That boy had grown into a man who had still wanted nothing other than his way followed and his orders obeyed and when they did not obey he had disposed of the problems. That man had become the fear everyone held against this building; everyone except for the ballet mistress who knew of what capabilities he held and remembered how he had put his life's trust into her hands.

And now, with Uno around, Madam Giry was terrified that the two opposing forces, tugging at both sides of her well being, were going to be the end of the Opera Populaire entirely.

Reluctantly she raised her head and gazed up into the shadows of Box Five. She couldn't see a thing behind the blackness shielding everything within the box, but she knew he could see her. She swallowed back her fear and gripped her cane tightly, her knuckles turning as white as her face.

"Forgive her," she mumbled, knowing the voice she spoke, however soft it was, could still be heard. "She is only a child."

But even in her own mind, Madam Giry knew that Uno was more adult than even her own mind and knew that without a doubt, the young woman was bound to unravel the worst of secrets the old building held.

* * *

**Yay! Uno will run the entire building ragged until she teaches everyone to BE THEIRSELVES! Anyone wants to chew me out for what I called Erik... go right ahead... she has a point (winks at all of you 'phans' out there). And don't worry, he gets his vengeance and yet... so does she... (shrugs). As you can see, this stories getter much better each chapter that goes on.**

**So stay tuned, keep reading, keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing.**

**And in the words of Foamy the Squirrel, "Twinkies for all!" (throws out twinkies)**


	9. My Immortal

**I thank all of you who have reviewed for this story. I greatly love _Danilion_ and _Shannon_'s reviews, for they REALLY put me in the best of my moods together! I'm so thrilled they they caught the deeper meanings of this story and I really love how all of you feel that my character, Uno, is such a multi-dimensional person. I do feel she is alive but not within me. No. Although I WILL admit, there are times I act like her to keep to myself and tell people not to bother me (you should give it a try for you will admire what happens).**

**I appreciate all the help you people have sent me in emails and I love all the feedback about the characters. Never hesistate to state your opinions regarding anybody in here, trust me! I really wouldn't mind if you'd like to share your thoughts regarding Uno and Erik or whatnot. Even though you don't see much romance (if you look very closely you will see it) and you won't see the fluff (well... I guess you can call it fluff... since Uno is definitely not a fluff-type person) until later on down the fic.**

**I will warn you all, however; this story is going to be LONG and I do mean, LONG! It's mainly because Uno is trying to get back to normal again and regain her humanity, which, as you can already see, is not easy for her. And as you'll see a little bit in this chapter she has quite a lot repressed within her, keeping her from changing to a happier self. Oh yes... in this chapter, you get to see what sorts of things Uno had to see in her life... and this is ONLY the tip of the iceberg that had sunk the Titanic... trust me!**

**So... enjoy this chapter and PLEASE get as many people as you can to read this with you. I greatly will appreciate it more. I plan to write another PotO (_Phantom of the Opera_) fic once this one is finished and it'll have Ricky, Theresa, and several others of my well known and well created characters, and this new fic will also be MUCH much better, seeing as I will have a beta (waves at my beta and ignores all the gasps I hear from that statement) and it will be made to the point that all I have to do is change a few names and send it out to get published. (Super big grins).**

**Enjoy this chapter--which is 21 pages long, again--and please don't feel too bad for Uno! Also, before I forget... the song she sings at the end (which is the same as the title), is called 'My Immortal' and sun by Evanescence; if you haven't heard the song I suggest listening to it! If you need to, email me and I will send it to you. I think it is one of the most BEAUTIFUL pieces of music out there! So email me if you need the song: PoeticallyGothic at AOHELL dot com.**

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**- Chapter Nine -**

"Forgive her," Madam Giry whispered. Erik narrowed his eyes. "She is only a child."

"A child that may be," he murmured to himself, "but she does not know the true meaning of fear for she has greatly dissatisfied me."

His fists were balling at his sides, his jaw locked firmly, and his teeth were grinding. All in all, he was angry enough to kill her, but he managed to suppress his temper just enough. Madam Giry turned and started heading towards the back of the stage.

"She will learn," Erik said to her through the use of his ventriloquism. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to stare at the giant prop of a tiger the stage crew was in the middle of designing. Her brows furrowed, hearing Erik's beautiful voice, though how full of anger it was at the moment.

"She will learn one way or another," he added in.

"Please Erik," Madam Giry urged. She turned to gaze up at his box and sent him a glance of her most desperate plea. "She does not know the story behind the Opera Populaire."

"It shall not matter what she knows," he seethed out, making the tiger's baring fangs appear to be holding back an amazing voice box. "She does not listen to warnings or to threats. I have told her—_nay_!—I have _warned_ her _not_ to displease me and she does just that."

"Erik," Madam Giry urged forward. "Please?"

"What is this secret you are holding of hers?" He tempted through anger. "What secret have you added onto mine?"

The flash of panic wavered over her face and Erik realized he chose the wrong choice of words right then. He closed his eyes and hung his head in slight despair. The poor woman didn't need _two_ threats in one day; he should know that.

"Forgive me," he murmured softly, the tiger once again the subject of his ventriloquism. "I shall let her go just this once."

Madam Giry blew out a breath of relief as she closed her eyes for just a brief moment. "Thank you, Erik," she mumbled back. "But please, try and stay relaxed around her. I know how easily she is angering you."

"No Antoinette," Erik corrected her by use of her first name. Hearing Erik pronounce her name allowed Madam Giry to know that he really _was_ regretting frightening her a moment ago.

"You do not," he finished off. "Believe me, you do not."

Without another word, Madam Giry turned and continued back into the halls of the theater. Erik hung his head in despair and felt his walls cracking, the foundations of years spent bottling up his anger and transforming it into power starting to age.

"And to think I was planning on having her become the prima ballerina," he muttered beneath his breath. "I fear that if I do that she will cause a riot upon my masterpiece and start a trend."

And _that_ was something he could do without.

-

Uno had just about lost her temper by the time she had stormed away from Madam Giry. The woman had the _nerve_ to warn her about her attitude, as if that ballet mistress knew what stress Uno would go through to please everyone else and follow their orders. The last time she even followed orders she was on a mission to kill Daniel Tanners, the lead instructor of the Science and Research Department of Synodd. It was painstaking event, the mission and following the mission. She had learned the truth about Ricky's existence, gained confusion as Daniel didn't mind when she shot him, and then when she was fighting to escape, she had lost her family and Duo had died in her hands.

Oh yes, there was definitely stress from following other people's orders; it was that stress that had caused her to flip out and end the war with arms wide open.

Literally.

"Incompetent bitch," she seethed out. "What does she know about threats and warnings? _Nothing_!" Uno sneered a few ballerinas who passed by her on their way towards the café. She didn't care if her expression had startled them; hell, she didn't care if it had made her look more of a witch! She was so angry right now she could punch holes in the wall.

And with her luck she'd get her fists stuck in them as well.

_Maybe I should just steal my gun back from that bitch and shoot her with it,_ Uno contemplated. She knew she wasn't going to. If a female were to shoot somebody in this day and age she would be triad and hung. A weak and yet, very wicked smile rose on her lips.

_At least I may actually die from that_, she decided. _Either that or I'll just wake up back home in Justin's arms and be thankful none of this ever happened outside of a nightmare._

Uno reached the dorms and she immediately went to the dresser and took out a simple jade gown. A few of the other ballerinas glanced in her direction but none of them made any notion of questioning her attitude; they learned when she told off La Marcella that Uno was _not_ your average girl.

Uno held the dress in her hands and headed towards the washroom. She wouldn't mind changing in front of the rest of the girls in the room but she didn't want to make notice of her scar-covered body. The last thing she needed was to be marked as 'Satan's Bitch' because she was covered in sadistic scars from head to toe; she was _still_ amazed nobody even noticed the scar she had tracing from beneath her left eye and across her nose to the bottom of her right eye.

Once alone she quickly changed into the dark green gown. She quickly removed her braid from the bun she wrapped it up in and felt ten times better when the pull on her scalp loosened. Without even glancing in the mirror—she didn't need to if she knew how it was supposed to feel on her body—she left the washroom and headed back to her two drawers. By now, La Marcella had entered the room and the moment she noticed Uno she opened her loose lips.

"You have to be a witch if you know how to dance so well in only _one_ day," the prima ballerina noted.

Uno cursed beneath her breath and stuffed her ballet dress into the drawer without folding it. She hastily locked her stuff back up before getting back to her feet. The other girls were quiet and staring at her and when she turned around to glance back at Marcella, she noticed a twisted glare on the young girl's face.

Uno regarded her for a moment, her brows creased together and her head cocked to the side. She planted her fists on her hips and stared at Marcella from another angle.

"What?" Marcella barked out. "Are you trying to weigh me up for one of your spells?" A few ballerinas glanced at one another and muttered something to each other.

"Actually," Uno paused and cocked her head at the other position to catch Marcella at another angle, "I was just realizing how much you remind me of somebody I once grew up with."

"Oh yeah? And did this girl say anything about you being a witch either?" Marcella sneered out.

"Actually no," Uno answered. "She just didn't like me because she was the popular girl before I entered her domain and after I entered it she was jealous that I was far more superior than her."

"And _that_ reminds you of me?" Marcella barked out. "How silly!"

Uno's eyes narrowed. "Silly… but true."

And without another word Uno passed by all the ballerinas and left the room, no longer fearing if her stuff were in danger of being pried open. If they managed to find out _how_ to 'unlock' her two drawers they would have to claw at it, break all their nails, get the skin of their fingertips ripped off, and bleed a good amount. And even _then_ they _may_ get into the drawers.

-

Remembering her last mission was like a missile being sent straight to her person without being shielded by her machine. It was the hardest blow that sent her crashing into agony. It reminded her of her of Duo and everyone else, which reminded her of her childhood where Ricky and Theresa were her two best friends. It reminded her of Daniel and what he had done to Ricky. It had reminded her of her innocence, a place in her life that no longer even exists.

It was the one thing Uno hated the most. She always told people that they should leave the past where it belonged, that they should leave the past in the past. Leave history untouched. She's said that for many reasons, one being that if history is polished up then it is repeated, which was why _she_ had to fight wars that copied when Duo fought them.

But the main reason was because it depressed her. Uno never liked to admit defeat but the one thing she had no way to claim victory over was when her memories would resurface and cloud her mind, blur her vision, and fog her choices. It was always the one final task that had taken her down. She was sent on a mission to shoot a man in the head in the forest and she would have done fine, had he not looked _just_ like a grown version of Quatre; thanks to the resemblance, she found she was crying when she hopped back on her bike and left the woods. She was sent on a mission to take down the staff head-hold of Synodd's Science and Research Department and she finds Daniel Tanners, Ricky's Father; _that_ had caused the biggest blow of all, reminding herself of what Ricky had done to keep her alive, who he had killed in place of her, and of how he had lied to her throughout their near-lifelong relationship. And God how she loathed crying but she couldn't ever hold back the tears once they came.

Like right now.

Uno managed to shield herself away from as many faces as she could by keeping her head ducked from their sights, her scraggily brown bangs shielding the sides of her cheeks. At least she didn't start to cry until she reached the door to the roof. The shadows of her face were good enough to hide her away for a little but not enough compared to the shade the rooftop gave her. Even though the sun was still casting its everlasting glow across the Paris lands, she still stepped out into the silenced air. She needed to get away from everyone; if she didn't she would seriously go mad and harm somebody, perhaps even herself and she didn't need _that_ on her conscious again. She knew that if somebody were to stop her on the way to the roof and question her she would bark at them and demand to be left alone in place for their life to be saved; she knew that threat could get her in deep shit but she couldn't care. Hell, being locked in a closet for four months to lose your humanity was what caused her to be as aggravated as she was towards the public.

Or was it when Theresa was shot?

She couldn't recall what had caused the change in her but she knew the closet ordeal had dramatically increased the change. Was it when Theresa died on their way to school? When Ricky died when she thought he was about to propose? Was it when she first thought Duo and everyone else died? Or perhaps it was when she had broken that soldier's neck three years ago in the mansion the second she opened her bedroom door and gaped at seeing her enemy on her premises.

Whatever the reason and whatever the cause, Uno couldn't get all the memories out of her head from resurfacing. The sky was a deep blue and violet, indicating how very close to dark it was getting. For that reason she was thankful; the shadows of the light were gone but soon, save for the lighted areas of the rooftop, she would be able to finally be alone in darkness, in the shades of black, hidden from the world.

Uno raised her head and glanced out across the horizon, watching as the sun sat for the night. She saw the last of the orange hue from the ball of fire out in space—the ball of fire that once came close to pulling her into its gravitational pull when she far off her course. She never recalled ever watching it set so peacefully, so calmly. Not a sound could be heard from the streets below and not a noise could be heard from above.

But why should it? Air travel has yet to even exist. She's flown back in time so far that automobiles haven't even been designed yet!

"Why," Uno breathed out as she stared at the quickly fading colors of light purple and blue. She watched the color rapidly change from the bright shades to the much darker shades before turning away from the scene altogether.

Staring at the ground and feeling her eyes fill up with fresh tears, Uno watched as each resurfacing memory climbed its way back into her mind. Pictures of her, Theresa, and Ricky having a blast on the swing set, cheering, and playing games was the one thing that had stuck in her mind the most. She and Ricky would compete to see who could swing the highest as Theresa would time them and when the winner finished they would leap off the swing, do a flip in the air, and land without a struggle.

She was so happy then so why did it bother her so much to remember the memory? Was it because she was naïve to what went on around her? Because she had yet been touched by the cold, unyielding hands of destiny? Or perhaps she was so happy because she had two best friends with her, side-by-side, every day and didn't expect anything bad to ever happen to them, to tear them apart, to end that happy moment. It wasn't her most _favorite_ moment but it was one of them.

"Go away," she pleaded softly. "Please just… just go away." A tear strolled down her right cheek and Uno squeezed her eyes shut to try and pry the images out entirely. But all she succeeded in doing was replacing them with the final pictures of her friends as they died.

Of Theresa's lifeless body on the sidewalk with the bullet wound between both her eyes and blood oozing out from the gaping hole.

Of Ricky's glassy eyes filled with tears and half his brains sprawled out across the pavement and walls around them, his blood coating everything and everywhere.

Of Duo's painful expression as his head laid on her lap, blood protruding from the large, gaping hole in his chest.

"Please," Uno seethed out forcefully. "Go _away_!" She screamed out the last word of her plea as loud as she could muster.

Her lids shuttered and struggled to remain closed, clenched tightly. The tears were falling now, steadily, quickly. She wrapped her arms around herself and balled her fists, trying desperately to cease the flow of rivers draining her energy. It was hard, so hard that she wasn't sure she would ever live again after the moment. The last time she cried so much was when Theresa had been killed. When Ricky died she was only in a mild daze. When her family was gunned down she mourned but not as much as she cried now.

"Please," she whispered.

Uno opened her eyes and noticed the skyline was deep blue and close to black. The good thing she liked about this new timeline she was in was their lack of lighting. Everything they had ran off of gas and wicker flames; they haven't yet adapted to electricity and if she could remember her history correctly, from what little she could get out of hacked Government files that were supposed to be burned down, they won't get electricity for another few years.

She stepped up to the edge and peered over. Only a second ago she had screamed out at the top of her lungs. It appeared that not a soul has heard her. The Parisian faces in the sea of life down below continued on their merry ways, oblivious to the weeping 'American' on the rooftop of the Opera Populaire. She screamed out at the top of her lungs, louder than when Ricky had thrown her out of the fifty-story building windows with a force strong enough to send her flying through a wall of reinforced titanium steel.

She swallowed back a wave of fresh tears and ignored the new ones that fell, cascading her cheeks like face paint on a five-year-old girl, and stepped back from the ledge. Hanging her head, Uno parted her lips to release a soft whimper.

"Please," she whispered, "please, just go away."

But try as she might, the pictures stayed in her head. Her legs grew shaky over the span of seconds that passed by next and her knees let out beneath her, causing her to tumbled and collapse to the rooftop floors below. She whimpered but kept silent, hoping that in time her pains would fade so she could return to the roaring of humanity inside the building. If anybody stepped out during this time and spotted the 'oh-so-perfect Uno Maxwell' in a heap on the ground, crying her eyes out, they would instantly see that she's not as perfect as they thought and would surely use it against her.

"Please," she breathed out.

_Uno was sitting down on the floor in the large living room of the mansion, the rest of the circle gathered together around the flickering flames of the campfire lamp seating in the middle. To her left was Theresa and to her right sat Ricky. Despite how badly she didn't want a birthday party to celebrate her sixth year of age, Uno had every girl in her first grade class—with the exception of the third grader named Ricky—gathered around to tell ghost stories. The lights were out, the room pitched black, and the only glowing embers in the room were from the makeshift campfire and the flashlight…_

_That Uno currently had held of._

"_So without a home to go," Uno paused and glanced around at a few shaken up faces of the group, " and with only a chainsaw in hand, she lifted her face to the sky and screamed out loud, at the top of her lungs with all of her fury and might, how much she was ready to just let loose and fall over."_

_Uno looked at each member of the group—including Ricky and Theresa—and smirked; everyone's mouth was gawked open and they looked as though they were terrified out of their minds. Suddenly, a the engine of a chainsaw cranked to life in what sounded like only a few feet away and a deadly scream sounded throughout the room. Everyone screamed—except for Ricky and Uno; Theresa just jumped and shook some—and ran from the gathering 'camp fire' and scattered across the house. Jessica fled to the upstairs. Brittney ran down the hallway to the library. Sarah and Claryce both ran down the opposite hallways and hid in the old offices Quatre once used but gave up due to Duo's habit of lock picking._

_Uno shut her eyes, shook her head, and lowered her face to the ground; she crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a sigh. Ricky laughed at the stupidity of the group that only recently made rude comments about being frightened from ghost stories. Theresa smirked some, still shaken up from the story itself, and glanced at both of her friends._

_Duo, who was standing behind the couch, glanced down both hallways, twisting his body and staring after each little girl that fled from him. Suddenly, he took off his devil mask and killed the engine of the chainsaw. He stared down at Uno and frowned._

"_Was I _that_ scary?"_

Uno choked on her next breath. The vision that just played in her head brought a few oncoming tears to fall sooner than she supposed they had intended to fall. Her breath started to come in shaky gasps and she began to sniffle. The throbbing in her head ceased to ache, finally halting the torment it had recently caused her when she broke down and collapsed. Now she was just hurled up and doubling over while the remaining tears finished falling and dried up.

_Why won't those memories just leave me alone?_ She asked herself. _Why do they have to stay and torment me? I think I've been given a second chance to live… why can't I live? Why won't it _let _me!_

Uno sniffled once again and raised her head. Her eyes were finally drying up and her cheeks were rather drenched. She sniffled once more, glancing around with a frown. The sky was entirely black now and a thousand stars glittered down upon her, laughing at her, telling her she can no longer go and visit them. She cringed from wanting to cry some more but finally gaining the strength she required to hold it back. They laughed at her because she couldn't fly away from humanity. When times like this happened to her she would just jump in her machine and fly away to space, float there for as long as she needed, and stay to herself.

Uno pushed up to her feet and looked around. The lights on the rooftop were beginning to dim down, hinting to her that the building was half asleep. How long had she been up here? How long had she been crying? How long had she been mourning for a life that had left her so long ago? Her brows knitted together as she stepped up to the edge and glanced down to the streets below. The lights outside had been extinguished and it was just as dark down there as the rooftop was slowly becoming.

"Jesus," she raced out. Turning she glanced back at the door leading to the rooftop of back inside the building. "I stayed out here longer than I needed too."

Uno took a deep breath and took one last, long glance at the streets below her. How easy it would be to just leap to her death.

Only something told her she wouldn't die.

"No," she smirked suddenly. Uno brought her hands to her face and wiped away at the moisten tears still lingering on her damp skin. "I'd probably only get a concussion, perhaps a broken rib if I'm lucky, and just a couple bruises. I'll wake up in terrible pain but I'll live."

She turned away from the edge and began heading towards the door. Her smirk remained and she shut her eyes as she continued walking nearer the door. "If I survived captivity, explosions, and a fifty-story collapse then I know I'd survive falling off this dorky rooftop."

The halls were dark when she stepped back inside and softly closing the door behind her, she glanced around. One very dim lamp was lighting the hallway every few yards, just barely enough to even light the way for mice.

Her stomach growled, not knowing when they had served dinner at the café. She hated herself for eating that pastry and drinking that coffee as it has told her body that she can eat real food and not survive off one meal every _two_ days.

"_Baka_," she breathed out, knowing her voice wouldn't carry far enough to warn anyone of her presence.

She started down the path, unsure where she felt like going so late at night, but knowing full well that she didn't want to see anybody for what remained of the day.

-

Erik remained perched up top of Apollo's mare and stared down at the ballet rat. With how amazing she was to check all of her surroundings before making a move, she was quite stupid not to look up and see him sitting on top of the horse, watching her. He originally came to the rooftop to get away from everyone and be alone. He needed to get some quiet time out in the open air and deal with the matters at hand.

To deal with the matters that had just stepped out onto the rooftop not longer after he did.

Uno had said some hefty things about him that greatly upset him and although Erik wanted to badly jump down and strangle her for what she had said, he only stayed quiet and watched her. He frowned when he watched her wrapping her arms around her body and noticed she was shaking. Was she cold? No; she couldn't be cold for it was pretty warm outside, even though it was late August. He heard a faint sniffle and his brows knitted together; she was _crying_!

_What happened to make _her_ cry?_ He pondered silently. Even though the sun was slowly setting he could still make out the shadows of her cheeks to know tears were steadily falling from her eyes. But why? The last he _heard_ Uno was roaring in Antoinette's face about the Opera Ghost and what she believes he is.

_A chauvinistic asshole,_ he repeated. _Such language coming from a measly ballet rat. She would be easily removed if I really did not want her in my theater anymore._

But he didn't want to do that. Antoinette was right; Uno was only a child and still had yet to learn about Paris. If she had come from America she had not even a full week to learn about the difference between Parisian society and American society. He'll just give her enough time to get used to it. If he still doesn't see a change _then_ he'll decide to cancel her contract.

"Why?" He heard her breath out. Erik frowned.

_Why what?_

"Go away," she murmured. "Please just… just go away."

_Who is she talking too?_ Uno had her head hanging and her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, holding herself. He could tell she was shaking as the tears continued to fall. Her eyes clenched together tightly and her fingers curled into fists.

"Please," she repeated only this time it was forced. "Go _away_!"

Erik flinched at the sound of her voice as she screamed out. He noticed immediately how several more tears fell from her tightly squeezed eyes. She sniffled a few times and he almost had to hit himself _not_ to open his mouth and question what her problem was. Perhaps she was homesick and wanted to go back to America? Perhaps she never intended upon leaving in the first place and had no chance and now that her mind was taunting her with visions she was trying to get it to quit?

"Please," she whispered. Uno opened her eyes and gazed out at the horizon of the sunset. Erik, too, turned and stared out at the changing colors. "Please—please just… go away."

And suddenly, her strength fled from her body causing her to collapse. Erik watched as the once graceful ballerina tumbled to her knees and curled and she continued to cry. He watched as she slowly tried to regain her composure, as she fought herself to get her strength back and stop her flowing tears. So far he had to say she was achieving her goal, albeit slow for his taste; he never _did_ like seeing a woman crying, no matter his reason for being angry with them or not. Even when he had caused Christine to cry in the past it had hurt him terribly, only he managed to suppress it beneath layers of anger and hatred.

She raised her head and stared up at the sky again. Erik saw a few lighter tears fall from her eyes but that was it. It looked as if she had finally gathered the courage to fight back and hold it in, which he felt was about time, anyways; she spent a good few hours crying out here on the rooftop to no one but herself—and him, little did she know—and now the sky was black and it was rather late out. He was sure that to her it didn't feel long, but he watched from when the sun first began to set to now, as Uno mourned for whatever reason she had.

Then suddenly, out of no where, she pushed up to her feet and gazed around.

_Finally,_ Erik pondered.

He wasn't able to move at all with her outside. He wouldn't want her to catch him and he wouldn't want to _be_ caught as well. She strolled over to the edge of the roof and gazed down at the streets below. She peered over the sides and frowned.

"Jesus," he heard her murmur out quickly. Erik jerked at the word she used, not used to hearing a woman curse with His name. She turned and gazed back at the door to the rooftop where she earlier fled through.

"I stayed out here longer than I needed too," she added in.

_I must agree with you on that, my dear,_ he admitted. _Far too long, if you asked me._

She turned back and stared down at the streets. He watched as she stared closely to all that she could make out and Erik's brows knitted together as he saw the gears in her head winding fast.

_She wouldn't dare,_ he said silently. _She can't!_ He had hoped of all things that she wouldn't jump; he could so _easily_ see the gears in her head contemplating it.

"No," she whispered through a smirk. Uno wiped her tears away and turned away from the edge. "I'd probably only get a concussion, perhaps a broken rib if I'm lucky, and just a couple bruises. I'll wake up in terrible pain but I'll live."

_That is _highly_ unlikely!_ He said mentally to her death wish. _There is no way you would be able to survive a fall such as this if Lucida had tumbled to her death for a height much like it._

Uno started towards the door and Erik noticed she had closed her eyes on the way. "If I survived captivity, explosions, and a fifty-story collapse then I know I'd survive falling off this dorky rooftop."

_Dorky?_ He pondered as he arched a brow. _And how is it possible for her to survive explosions? Where could she have fallen out of fifty-stories? And what captivity is she referring to? No body would capture a ballet rat for even a whore's product when they could gain better profit at the Moulin Rouge._

"Witch," Erik murmured out as she left the rooftop. He slid down off the mare's back and glanced out over the horizon and the many stars in the black sky. "I can strongly see why La Marcella believes you to be a witch only I have yet to hear you mutter spells and hexes."

Wondering about her next moves, Erik decided against returning to his lair. Instead, he entered the building and allowed his eyes to adapt to the darkness surrounding him. He could see her far up ahead of him already and a wicked smile played across his face as he decided to follow her and look for something to use against her with.

-

Uno stepped into the kitchen after she picked the locks and went back to the cupboard to gather another oil lamp. After lighting the wick and dimming the light down so she couldn't be spotted but have enough light to see where she'd be heading, she left the kitchen, locked the door back up, and strode silently down the hall. The building was silent, sleeping when it was only what she could conjure up eleven-thirty, and she was wide awake. She entered the silent hall of props, located behind the wall behind the back of the stage, and glanced around. During the day this hallway was filled with people, packed, noisy, and very much crowded. Right now it was so bare somebody could be hiding behind one of the dark corners and not a soul would no except for them.

With that though in mind, she froze and frowned. Glancing around, she stared as intently as she could manage in the dark. Narrowing her eyes, Uno pressed her lips together in a thin line and took a deep breath. She let it out silently, cursing herself mentally at the same time.

_If anybody's watching me then I'll find out who it is and blackmail them,_ she decided. _That'll teach people to leave me alone._

Uno turned back around and continued in the direction she was heading. The double wooden doors at the end of the hallway opened up and spilled into the back stage. She shut the door and took a long hard glance at her surroundings to be sure she was still alone. She didn't have to worry about leaving fingerprints behind; no body would gain that intelligence for another century or more.

She headed towards the stage and as soon as she stepped upon it, she headed quickly to the center. The auditorium was black and Uno knew that if anyone were sitting in the audience she would not be able to see them. However, thanks to the light in her hands, they would definitely be able to _clearly_ see her. She gazed around at what she could make out then raised her head and stared up at the boxes. She could only make out the nearest boxes and even _they_ were rather dark; at least she could make out the wall sidings. Uno then lowered her eyes to the pit below and frowned. She knew they had a piano but she didn't see it there. Did they move their instruments around? Monsieur Reyer normally waited until after the ballet finished to conduct his musicians, is what Madam Giry once told her. Did they not practice today? For all she knew they did and she didn't hear them, too lost in her thoughts of her past that made her cry.

_Then again_, Uno frowned and raised her head up to the ceiling. She knew she couldn't see anything nor could she make anything out but it was the thought that occurred to her right then that gave her any meaning to gaze around in shock.

_As the theaters back home, the auditorium's usually soundproof._

A smirk came to her face. She could scream and nobody would hear. She could _sing_ and nobody would hear. She did know, on the other hand, that if she were to fire her gun people would definitely hear it; nothing is _that_ sound proof unless you were captured by Synodd. Boy did they know how to make confinement rooms soundproof.

Uno turned around to gaze at the props on the stage and spotted the grand piano off in the corner, on the side of everything. She smirked; all they did was move it from the back and up onto the stage. She knew it wasn't the same piano Monsieur Reye had down below in the pit; perhaps this was a back up piano? The piano he had in the pit would be impossible to lift onto the stage so this _had_ to be a different one. She stepped up to the fine instrument and stroked her fingers along the polished wood. Quatre had taught her how to play the piano and out of all the instruments she's learned, the piano was one of the best. Most of her music went to the piano.

She paused from stroking it and glanced down. The bench sat in front and the keys were glowing against the dim lighting, a white ebony bone against the bright sunny flames. Uno cocked her head to the side and frowned. How she missed her music. Composing the music to her audition had sparked her interest back up, showing her what she had forgotten when she entered the 'real world' and left her childish dreams behind.

"How beautiful," she whispered, "you can be when played."

And how true that was. Uno took a seat on the bench and set the lamp down on top of the piano, thankful that it was not open and showing the strings beneath. Perhaps Monsieur Reyer did not like leaving it open for fear of rats or mice getting inside and magnificent piece of work and wrecking it. She knew how expensive grand pianos were and even though in this era everything was less money, it was just as costly. The only thing was, where she came from she was never broke.

Hell, if she had stayed in _her_ world then she would have been, literally, the Queen of all humanity, thanks to Relena's and Quatre's will.

Uno rested her fingertips on the ebony keys and pressed down gracefully, pleased when the beautiful notes of soft music replied to her physical questions. She played several more notes, warming up her ears to the sounds of pleasant noises and music that she hasn't heard since her childhood, since Ricky had died, before finally breaking into a slow, depressing song. She closed her eyes, feeling the tunes returning to her memory from the darkest depths of her inner soul. She had made all her music, never believing in buying and listening to anyone else except for her or her friends—Ricky and Theresa—and every_thing_ she had ever even played she had made herself.

The notes she made now were one of her earlier creations, but she never had any words to it. It was just delicate on its own.

Her eyes were closed and her head was hanging as she listened to the music she played. Her soul began to cry but her eyes did not shed their tears. She had full control her body now to tell herself that she would not cry again. Instead of mourning much the same way she had when she was alone on the rooftops, she heard words entering her mind. They spoke gracefully to her and they fit all too well to what was going on with her memories at the moment. In fact, it fit _perfectly_.

Her voice was throaty when she opened her mouth to speak; it crackled and squeaked a few times but she didn't stop. She hadn't used her vocal chords in such a long time that she wasn't even sure if she could still manage a note.

"I'm so tired of being here," she murmured out through a shaky voice. "Suppressed by all my… childish fears." She raised her voice slightly, her vocals starting to grow and strengthen against their age old weakness. She was still shaky, unsure about singing the rest of what came to mind, but the music wouldn't quite and she wouldn't cease the flow of the song any time soon.

"And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave. Cause your presence still lingers here," she paused and cleared her throat before going on. As she carried on with the next line that swarmed into her head her voice gradually strengthened and got louder and slightly more powerful.

"And it won't leave, me, alone," she said loudly. "These wounds won't seem to heal—this pain is just too real—there's just too much that time, cannot, erase," she finished off in a mild roar, her voice regaining its once angelic tone of perfection. As she continued her song her voice gradually grew and remained loud and powerful.

"When you cried, I'd—wipe away all, of your tears—when you screamed, I'd—fight away all, of your fears—and I held your hand, through all of these years," her voice dropped a few chords until it was soft again, "but you still have… all… of me." She finished her verse in a hushed tone.

The piano played more of her notes and Uno felt her mind reeling back to when she first sang on stage. She sang a Japanese song she made strictly for Ricky and a little bit of Heero; Heero had to test her somehow and see if she had learned Japanese and that song had definitely helped her pass that test. Ricky, on the other hand, understood it just as well but was in a state of shock; the song was a dedication of love to him and she told him her feelings through singing it and pointing directly at him.

Uno raised her head again but her eyes remained shut. Her voice was back to its soft whisper that she started with when she first began. "You used to captivate me—by your resonating life. And now I'm bound by the life you left behind." She swallowed her fear of opening back up and ignored her sudden feelings of dread that washed over her for singing out again.

Her voice raised a few more chords but remained in the same whisper-like tone. "Your face it haunts—my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away—all the sanity in me." Her voice grew louder again only this time, as she repeated her earlier lines, she allowed herself to get lost in her music and sing out loud. "These wounds won't seem to heal—this pain is just too real—there's just too much that time, cannot, erase."

Uno raised her head up and opened her mouth more, allowing her vocal chords to gain access of an even louder tone. "When you cried, I'd—wipe away all, of your tears—when you screamed, I'd—fight away all, of your fears—and I held your hand, through all of these years… but you still, have… all, of me--" Her voice immediately dropped to a hushed whisper as she finished off her verse with her next lines and as she sang her tone got powerful and loud at once; she could have sworn, if she were paying attention to herself singing instead of herself swept away in her own music, that she were echoing.

"I've tried, so-hard-to-tell, myself that you're gone," she sang out loudly. "But though, you're still, with me… I've been, alone, all along." She allowed her voice to carry out until it died and her fingers struck away at the keys harder, making the music play louder to match her voice. Still unaware of herself echoing throughout the auditorium, Uno carried on with her song and sang to her hearts delight, feeling much better about herself already.

"When you cried, I'd—wipe away all, of your tears—when you screamed, I'd—fight away all, of your fears—and I held your hand, through all of these years… but you still have," she lowered her voice to a soft chord again, "all, of me."

Uno allowed her final note to die on its own, not caring if her breath were running low or if an extra pair of ears besides hers suddenly heard her. When finally her note died and the piano keys began to soften up their graceful music, she reached the end of the song. Slowly, she dragged her fingers off the keys and hung her head and her eyes were _still_ closed and have yet to be opened.

She stifled a small smile. "I can't believe I still have it in me," she murmured softly. Uno raised her head and stared down at the keys she recently touched. "I still have the talent."

Taking a deep breath and pushed up to her feet and stared down at the keys one final time. "But no," she breathed out as she exhaled her deeply inhaled breath. "No more. That's done and over with and I won't walk the same path again. Not alone," she paused and turned to walk away. Uno carried the light with her as she made her way back stage again.

"And never again," she added in softly.

_Now_, she decided, _I can get some rest._

-

Erik was still gawking at her when she took one final glance at the piano and then the auditorium before retiring from the stage altogether. When he followed her on stage he had figured her to just practice her dancing as she had several nights ago, not sit down on the piano and play beautifully and _sing_! He never expected her to _sing_! To say the least, he didn't expect her to know how to play the piano, either.

When he watched her stroke the fine wood structure of the grand piano he figured she would just be admiring its beauty. And then when she sat down on the bench he expected her to just stare down endlessly at it and sigh with exhaustion. He had _not_ expected her to touch the keys gracefully and play the most alluring of music he has heard since he last composed those forms of music.

Her eyes were closed and her head was hanging. She wasn't even looking at the keys! Erik had gaped at her when the music grew into a song of its own. She raised her head just a little and he ducked back beneath the shadows, shielding himself from her prying eyes. But she had never opened them; not once, even to look at the keys. It was as if she had been playing the piano since birth, much like he had.

And then when she sang. Erik hasn't heard an angelic voice since Christine sang but when Uno started to sing that had changed. Although her voice was scratchy and shaky, he could tell it had seen better days. She was soft when she sang, slowly increasing its powerful pressure upon her throat but still remaining in soft tones. Erik felt something for her just then, something he hasn't felt since Christine, and it wasn't love. It wasn't even friendship.

Rather, it was more like pity. He pitied Christine because she had always been desperate to learn how to sing. But Uno already knew hour; no, he pitied her because she was _afraid_ to sing, and he could tell. As her voice grew louder and the song grew closer towards the end, she lost herself in her music—much the way he could lose himself in _his_—and she let herself go.

And the voice he had heard in the few notes she had stopped shaking to sing was more than just angelic, but tremendous. She had the powerful lung ability that La Carlotta held, the sweet, soft, and gentle caress that Christine had, and more; she had the ability to grow and not stop. When she finished the song she had allowed her notes to trail off with the keys of the piano.

He watched as she graced her fingers once more on the soft, polished wood of the piano and stifle a small smile—which graced him with a smile of his own. "I can't believe I still have it in me," she murmured. "I still have the talent."

Erik watched as she turned away from the fine instrument. "But no," she breathed out in a sigh. "No more. That's done and over with and I won't walk the same path again." Erik watched silently when she turned and left the stage.

Her voice was practically a whisper when she added in, "Not alone and never again."

Erik had heard all he needed to hear to believe her _not_ a witch, but a Goddess; a Goddess of Music

_And by God as my witness,_ he promised her mentally, y_ou will _not_ remain a ballerina but become the diva. And if I have to burn down another theater and kill even more, I will _have_ my way obeyed.

* * *

**Okay people... I'll hand you chocolate roses if you review! I love chocolate roses... they looked JUST like real red roses and inside the crimson paper bud is a little Hershies Kisses, wrapped in red just like the pedals. You don't HAVE to eat it... (shrugs). I took one of my silk red roses and tied a black ribbon to it. There... I'll do that for y'all!** _

**(passes out thornless red roses with black ribbons tied to the stems)**

**And if you still don't like roses or chocolate... then here (passes out fish to everybody). Be fishy!**


	10. Escaping to Seclusion

Regarding the petition that is going around, I sent notice upon it to the fanfiction site. I want to know what's _really_ going on because I feel this is all bullshit. If the site's really going to ban you for replying to reviews **THEN FINE**! There's no sense in dwelling over shit like this when they **_AT LEAST_** give you the ability to share your work with the public! I mean, why are you going to whine and complain? And hell, for all you know, this is just some bored person who wants your **_PENNAME_** AND **_EMAIL ADDRESS_** so **HE** can **HACK** **INTO YOUR PROFILE!** Do you REALLY want that? I sure as hell don't! So I sent to (two email accounts) this site and told them about the rumors going around. I posted the statement regarding the petition (not the list of names since its a lot of names) and I even posted my reply to it, that apparently no body is listening too. God, you are all very immature if you think something like this shouldn't be avoided! **_LISTEN TO MY WORDS: DO NOT SIGN THAT PETITION!_**

In saying this, I hope you have all finally grown brains and realized the truth.

Enjoy this chapter, it's only 16 pages long but long enough for what it holds.

And by the way, if you hate me because I posted this directly to the readers who actually read authors notes (cause sometimes I don't), then so be it. If you hate me for stating my opinion (which is most likely correct) then you're an idiot who will change your mind according to the bandwagon (and if you don't know what 'bandwagon' means, then I'll translate: you're a flake and when other people decide to sign the petition, you sign it too depsite what you really know is going on)!

So there, hate me if you want and stop reading a story that shouldn't have our thoughts to deal with anyways. And I ask you all, NICELY NOT to flame me; you wouldn't like flames in YOUR review slots in YOUR stories for stating your opinions, so do you think I do? Treat others with respect; don't flame me for speaking my mind. Thank you.

* * *

**- Chapter Ten -  
**After Madam Giry learned that Uno had managed to perfect her dance steps in less than a complete day's worth and only attended rehearsals because it was required, the older woman finally had told Uno to skip out on the remaining rehearsals until the final rehearsal was called. Uno didn't mind; in fact, this gave her more of a chance to be by herself and learn about her new home. Several ballerinas, on the other hand, had sneered their jealousy against her but Uno only brushed them off. 

And with what little Madam Giry had given Uno for money, Uno had to resolve to stealing from the stage crew and whoever else casually left their things behind. She only had a few franc notes left to her name that the ballet mistress had given her and it wasn't enough to spend on a few meals a week.

"Uno!" A petite blonde ballerina squealed out. Uno looked up from her cup of coffee one morning and saw Meg making her way towards the table. Immediately, she took the seat across from the perfected ballerina.

"I just heard about what happened," Meg blurted out. Uno's brows knitted together and she lowered the pasty she had just recently picked up. "Maman had just told me that you have already completed your dance steps long before the rest of us had even learned the first step."

"I'm amazed," Uno said. She glanced back down at her plate and stifled a small smirk. Meg frowned and cocked her head to the side. Uno raised her gaze back to the girl seated across her and picked up the pasty once again.

"I would have thought you have learned this news last week with the rest of the gossiping ballet rats."

"Well," Meg turned away and allowed a faint pink to creep into her cheeks, "I have but I never believed it. And then I discovered you stopped coming to class and I questioned Maman about it."

Uno snorted and Meg raised her head once again. "That's cause she told me to stop coming until the final rehearsal," Uno explained. "Said I'm not helping with making all the other dancers feel comfortable." She stared down at the pastry and with sarcasm, added in, "Which shouldn't matter, considering they can't dance, anyways."

Meg pressed her lips together and watched as Uno took a bite of her pastry. Her brows furrowed as she glanced down at the table between them. "Not all of us are horrible," she murmured.

"No," Uno shot back. She swallowed her bite and cleared her throat. Meg raised her head, frowning a small pout at the girl across her. "You are actually the only other dancer I can say knows what she's doing. Besides that, everyone else sucks."

"Uno," Meg whispered, "your language—"

"I know," Uno cut in, "it's horrible. You don't need to remind me when I have your mother doing the same."

"Why don't you quit, then?" She urged. "It isn't right."

Uno shrugged her shoulders, brushing the topic off. "I don't care. I'm not here to make friends." Uno raised the pastry back to her mouth and proceeded to take another bite.

"You're here to dance and hope to someday meet your Prince Charming," Meg smiled. Uno paused, pastry half in her mouth already. "I wonder what he'll look like," Meg added in dreamily.

"Don't," Uno said sharply. She lowered the pastry and stared seriously into Meg's confused gaze. "Don't make me lose my appetite."

"You don't want to get married and have children?"

Uno snorted once again at that. "Married and have kids? Yeah, as if _that'll_ be possible."

"But—"

"Meg, you best hurry up before Madam Giry makes us stay even later!" Uno glanced away from Meg and up into the eyes of a frizzy red-head with brown eyes and a bent nose. "You know we are required to be on time for rehearsals."

Meg glanced at Uno quickly with a soft expression before nodding and getting to her feet. Uno glanced back down at the pastry and ignored the chattering of high pitched voices. Before they finally left her alone, Meg leaned back over and murmured softly, "Perhaps later we can finish talking?"

"What's there to discuss?" Uno retorted. Meg stayed quiet and followed her friends away, leaving Uno to be alone in the café once again. Uno frowned down at her coffee, chewing on her most recent bite of the pastry.

She hasn't really seen Paris in this era; in fact, the last time she's even been to the French Territory, it was in _her_ time and it was during a battle and all she saw was a destroyed Eiffel Tower and a burning art museum. Perhaps there was something worth seeing in eighteen-seventy-three.

She decided that after her meal, she would take to the streets and explore. After all, how bad can the Parisian streets be _during_ the day?

-

Uno lowered her head and passed by several highly decorated faces as she crossed a small alley, following the path along one of the streets littered with horses and carriages. Uno hadn't expected to be thrown so far back into the future that automobiles have yet to even be created, but apparently she was. The only time she's ever seen a horse was when she visited Relena's estate and when she learned to ride it wasn't by carriage or by 'womanly standards'; Relena had insisted she learn to ride correctly and not side saddle.

Now Uno knew that if she were to ride she would have to ride side saddle.

She grunted and hung her head. Madam Giry had warned Uno about the streets, saying that much has changed compared to what Uno expected to see, but there was one thing the older woman had left out: the types of people she would be seeing.

So far, Uno could count up _many_ drunk and poor faces that were asking for money, several whores—or as she would have to start calling them, prostitutes—and a few high class faces. Though at the moment, as she passed by a jewelry store, she saw many high class people surrounding her.

"You there!" Somebody called out. Uno's heart skipped a beat as she raised her head to glance up at the face of a man in a black top hat with a suit on. "How would _you_ like to be adorned with the diamonds of the rough?"

Uno narrowed her eyes, recalling the last time this has happened to her for a measly book collection and how, when she finally got out of it all, she was stopped by the two main reasons for the war to have even started.

"No," Uno replied softly.

"Oh now _surely_ there is a man in your life who will be willing to buy you this exquisite Jade and Opal set," he insisted. Several of the faces turned to glance at her and Uno frowned, wondering if her midnight blue, velvet gown had dubbed her a royal ass instead of a simple ballerina.

Uno took a deep breath. "No," she barked back.

"Well," he paused to let out a chuckle, "perhaps you need some jewels to gain the right man?"

Her jaw locked in place and her fists balled on her sides. "No," she growled back. "And quit insisting that I need a man in my life. I'm only sixteen."

Uno learned how wrong it was to say that all too late. Several of the posh faces chuckled and turned away. The man laughed and planted a big hand against his stomach, probably holding himself from laughing hard. Uno growled and turned away to shield herself from their thrilled faces.

"Oh you poor girl," a soft voice purred. Uno turned around to see a woman with black hair wrapped up in a bun, a soft shade of violet painted around blue eyes, and pink cheeks balancing out plush red lips.

"Sixteen is the right age for a man," she carried on. "Why, when I married Archy here I was only _fifteen_!"

Uno frowned and glanced up at the man she was hanging off of and found he looked twice the woman's age. Her lips parted and she took in a gasp of air. Several others began to laugh at her stunned expression.

_This can't be_, her mind reeled back. _Marry at age fifteen to a man who looks sixty? No _fucking_ way!_

"I'm sorry," Uno choked out on her next breath. "But I don't understand your ways." More laughter came out after she finished and although Uno felt the embarrassment crawling up her spine for being laughed at, she had a way to escape. "It is much different where I was raised."

"And where," came another voice, this one much louder than the other. Uno turned to see a woman with short brown hair, crimped into curls, with different shades of pink makeup on.

"And where," she repeated after a few more chuckles, "might this be? England?"

"America," Uno shot back defiantly. Immediately, the laughter ceased and the expressions on everyone's faces changed to that of serious. "Things are done differently in America."

"A-America?" The shop owner gasped. "You're an American?"

"_Furansujin no baka_," Uno growled beneath her breath. "_Baka_!" (Translation from Japanese: The French are stupid, stupid!) She spun around and pushed her way through the crowd, continuing on her way that she was originally heading before she was rudely stopped. She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her balled fists, and ignored the remarks she could make out from behind her.

A giant shop window came up on her right and peering into the window, she found it was a toy store. Biting back the urge to shout rude remarks at the high society that she had just left behind, Uno pushed open the door and stepped inside the little shop. The _ding_ of a bell knocking around as she closed the door behind herself alarmed the store manager of a customer and no sooner than when Uno entered the building did a short plump woman with red hair tied into two braids, one on both shoulder, stepped into view.

"_Est-ce que bonjour, comment je peux vous aider?_" The woman asked. (Translation of French: Good morning, how may I help you?) Uno cursed beneath her breath and shook her head, still unable to get the hideous Parisian faces out of her mind. The woman frowned, noticing the young girl's upset face, and sighed.

"It is those Parisian faces that have scolded you, is it not?" The woman asked in scratchy English. Uno shot her face up to the plump woman in shock but she only chuckled in return. "Yes, they have done the same thing to a few other customers who have come in here. Trying to married women to talk their husbands into buying more expensive jewelry for them."

"You-you speak English?" Uno asked in surprise. The woman regarded her for a brief moment before giggling behind her hand.

"That I do," she replied. "You must not be from around here for clearly you would see that half of the Parisian society these days does, too."

Uno turned away and grumbled beneath her breath, "I wouldn't know. This is the first time I left the Opera Populaire since I've arrived and I don't remember what I saw when I got here, either."

"The Opera Populaire?" The woman asked. She backed away from Uno and took in the girl's appearance. Uno frowned. "Are you a dancer?"

"Is it noticeable?" Uno asked as-a-matter-of-factly. "If so, I wonder why those people mocked me about not being married at sixteen."

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "No need to worry about them," she blew out with a breath of air. She waved her hand in the air at the topic and strolled away from Uno and back over towards the counter in the back of the store. Uno's brows knitted together and she followed the woman to the counter.

"They wouldn't know a horse's reins from its own tail if they even opened their eyes and learnt that carriages are not of our future," she remarked. "My husband's brother lives in America and sent a telegram to us stating that there have been a few men strolling around with some mechanical carriage that is powered without a horse."

Uno nodded and stepped up to the counter as the woman rounded it to the other side. "There is," she agreed. "I have seen it." She knew the second half was a lie but knew the woman wouldn't know. Instead, the woman turned to her and frowned.

"You have?" Uno nodded. "But how?"

"I came from America," Uno explained. "To be a ballerina or something of the sort."

"Well," the woman stated in shock, "then what are you doing here if the opening is next week?"

"Madam Giry asked me to quit coming to rehearsals," Uno explained. "Since I've already completed my steps when the rest of the ballet is still struggling."

"You've completed a full act?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders and glanced down to the glass countertop. Inside the display were several child books. "And besides dancing there's not much else to do," she replied.

"Well then what can I help you with?" The woman asked suddenly.

Uno cocked her head to the side and glanced up at the woman. "Would you happen to have any puzzles? Jigsaw puzzles, that is?"

"A jigsaw puzzle?" The woman repeated, her brows rising to her hairline. Uno nodded and watched as the woman stepped back around the counter and into the center of the store. "Well, we have these."

Uno turned around and saw the woman pick up a box off a round display, showing a simple drawing and large pieces. She frowned and glanced around the rest of the boxes, seeing the other pictures and realizing that each puzzle had large pieces.

"Do you have anything where the pieces are much smaller?" Uno asked softly.

The woman sighed and replaced the box back on the shelf. Brows knitting together, she turned to look at Uno in the face. Her lips pressed together and she planted her fists on her hips while releasing a breath of air.

"How… little?" She asked in weary.

Uno shrugged her shoulders and glanced away. "Tiny," she answered. "Something that would be impossible for a child and hard for an adult."

"I have something," the woman slurred out. Uno frowned over at the plump woman with a worried look. The woman turned her head to the side and stared at the young ballerina at another angle.

"Come," she said suddenly and turned around. Uno followed her into the back, behind the counter and into another room filled with empty boxes, chairs, and tables. "This is usually the room where I store things but my husband had designed a jigsaw puzzle several years ago, hoping that it would begin a new trend."

A brow shot up above Uno's right eye. "A trend?" She asked questionably. The woman began pushing a few empty boxes out of the way and pulled up a packaged box. Inside the box, Uno saw a much smaller box with the imprint of the Opera Populaire painted on it. The woman withdrew the puzzle box and extended it out to Uno.

"When you said you were a ballerina from the Opera Populaire and you were in search of jigsaw puzzle with tiny pieces, my first guess was that word about the idea got around," she explained. Uno glanced up at the woman as she glanced down at the box in her hands. With a sigh, she added in, "My husband, Richard, tried his hardest to insist to people that a harder puzzle would keep a child's mind from straying to less educational things."

"He's right," Uno agreed. The woman turned to the ballerina with a frown. "All my life my father only bought me the hardest of puzzles and it's taught me to piece together some of the hardest tasks."

The woman nodded and glanced back down at the box once again. "When you said who you were and what you were looking for I immediately had hoped that the trend had begun." After taking a deep breath, she sighed out, "I guess I was wrong."

"Tell your husband," Uno began, "to keep making these puzzles and I'll keep buying them."

The woman frowned over at the young ballerina, her red brows creasing together. Uno stared at her seriously and to let the woman know her intentions, she took a deep breath and raised her chin.

"Will you let me buy it?"

"Are you able to afford it?" The woman shot back. Uno narrowed her eyes.

"How much will it cost you?"

"At _least_ twenty francs," she expressed cautiously. "This puzzle's been back here for _years_. I don't expect to sell it for the same price as the others."

"I almost expected you to say thirty," Uno replied in aghast. "But twenty I can afford."

She woman took a deep breath and nodded her head. "Very well," she breathed out in a rush.

She waved her hand in the air and shooed the young girl out of the back room. Uno stepped around the counter and headed towards the register while the woman stepped around to the other side. The _ding_ of the machine opened up and Uno withdrew twenty franc notes from her dainty black purse and handed it over. After receiving the payment, the woman packaged the box into a bag and held it out for the ballerina to take.

"Thank you," Uno expressed kindly. The woman nodded her head and smiled in return.

"Many thanks to _you_, as well." Uno stifled a smile and turned to go. "Are you sure you can put that together, though?"

The new question caught Uno's attention at the last minute. She set her hand on the door's bar and turned to glance back at the plump woman still standing behind the counter. With a definite nod of her head and her eyes displaying her challenge quite clear, Uno replied silently. The woman raised her own chin as if wishing Uno a silent 'good luck' and watched as the girl left the building.

The first place Uno glanced at was the jewelry shop where her earlier experience had taken place. With luck clearly on her side, Uno was thankful that the crowd had diminished and left. She was alone when she retraced her footsteps back down the path towards the Opera Populaire.

Half way back to her destination a swiftly moving carriage strode by and Uno glanced up to see a familiar face. She hadn't met them but Madam Giry once pointed out Viscount Raoul de Chagny. Now, getting a much closer inspection than when she was dancing on stage for her audition, Uno noticed his carefree expression and groaned inwardly.

_He's a pussycat_, she admitted. Uno closed her eyes and shook her head as her feet carried on. _If _that's_ Raoul de Chagny, he looks like a complete sissy._

When she reached the outskirts of the Opera Populaire she saw the Viscount Raoul de Chagny's carriage parked outside. Biting her tongue and hoping that he wasn't here to visit, Uno prayed that Madam Giry wouldn't try and stop her to introduce the two, much as she had already tried once before. Uno casually headed into the building, taking each step one at a time, and as soon as she entered she noticed the bundle of life everywhere.

Around the base of the grand staircase stood Meg and a girl with extremely curly hair; Uno had learnt that her name was Christine de Chagny. Madam Giry stood off in the distance talking with the managers and Raoul de Chagny and several ballerinas were scattered around with their friends. Uno didn't stop the second she entered the building. In fact, she squared her shoulders back, raised her chin, and headed straight for the door that would take her towards the dorms.

On the way she felt eyes swarming all around her. Biting her tongue and balling her fists, Uno kept to herself and minded no one. She heard Madam Giry murmur her name and heard Meg whisper a few things to Christine about the 'dancer who had already completed her steps' but they weren't any real threats.

As soon as the doors shut behind her, Uno found she was in more of a mess than she had expected to be in. The halls were practically packed with action as everyone undressed and cleaned up from their rehearsals. Apparently, Uno realized as she made her way through the busy crowd of people, all rehearsals had just ended.

-

With a deep sigh, Uno glanced down at the bustling bodies below the life of the clouds and stars. The streets at night, as usual, were livid with people from all around. She remained sitting on the edge of the building, legs draped over the sides, and her eyes fixated on several couples as she watched them either bicker or secretly make-out.

She even smirked when the bickering woman had slapped the man.

_Well I guess not _everyone_ is as weak as they appear,_ she summed up.

Like the past several days Uno had kept to herself and as soon as night came upon the Paris lands she ducked away and retreated into the silence of the roof. Nobody ever caught her as she escaped the clutches of nocturnal sleepers; in fact, no body even questioned why she was never around when they went to bed. She figured that if they saw her in the mornings then they would know she hadn't skipped out on them entirely.

_But I wake up before them,_ Uno frowned at the realization that these girls wouldn't ever notice is the fell off the face of the Earth.

Litterally.

Uno sighed and laid back on the slab of masonry that made up the opera building's roof. She stared up at the sky to the many stars littering it with their sparkle and the bright moon glistening in the black field. The stars shown down on her with its rich sparkle of blues, greens, yellows, and reds, each indicating their distance away from the planet, while the moon with all its bright rays, expressed its undying beauty in another life.

"So beautiful," she murmured to herself, "how it looks when it's not inhabited by colony citizens."

A smile managed to come to her lips. Yes, she realized, Earth and its planetary system was a magnificent view if nothing else was around just yet. The moon was bare and empty as man won't even step foot on it for at _least_ fifty years and the stars have yet to fully be discovered.

Uno closed her eyes, remembering the last time she remembered watching the stars at night. She was only seven and Theresa was eight; both of them had spent the night in the Victorian Library in Quatre's Mansion, beneath the vast sea of stars. It was Uno's favorite room because, when the lights were on and daylight was filtering in through the glass dome-shaped ceiling, there were _millions_ of books to be read. And at night, which was also Theresa's favorite time to be in the room, all those stars in the sky, including the moon itself, shown down upon them with its glorious beauty.

When Uno opened her eyes to see the same thing she has seen when she was little—and sadly, not during the span of her battling days—her eyes caught sight of a shooting star, soaring through the black sky at the same rate it took to travel in her machine. The shooting star and its appearance brought a sad smile to her face. The last time she had seen a shooting star, she was gazing up into the sky, waiting for the shipment of neo-titanium to be delivered, only during that time shooting stars happened all the time.

Uno sighed and closed her eyes again. Shooting stars didn't happen in her time; they were just space shuttles or fighting machines flying through the atmosphere. People used to be silly and wish upon them but she knew wishes couldn't come true from somebody flying through space, being mistaken for a shooting star.

"Theresa," she murmured through a whispered plea. "What I wouldn't give to have you by my side again."

Her head began to throb with the oncoming of new tears. Uno bit her tongue to keep from crying and actually managed to succeed. She swallowed back the lodge of tears and gasped out for air. When she opened her eyes once more she sighed. Nothing has changed and nothing will change; unfortunately, it was just her luck to be sent to a world where it was highly unlikely for that to happen.

Pushing herself up Uno glanced back down at the sea of life below her and frowned. People were still up and about but the life of it all was slowly dying. Fewer people remained on the streets and Uno noticed it was getting rather late. She gathered herself and stood up. After fixing her dress of the wrinkles she realized she was wide awake.

_Well fuck going to sleep,_ she decided. Uno turned and headed towards the door. When she entered the building it was just as it was every other night; the halls were bare and dark, indicating how everyone was already practically asleep.

Uno made her way towards the kitchen, stole inside once again, and lit up another oil lamp. After locking the kitchen back up, she made her way around the dark halls with the tiny light she had and headed towards the stables. The moment she stepped outside she dimmed the light all the way until it gave off nearly any light, leaving just enough lit so she could still brighten the flame later on, and placed it on a table. She reached for a saddle and removed it from the wall then covered the lantern with it; if anybody were to see the lantern they'd know somebody had been there but if they saw the saddle out of place, they would assume another stable boy had done it for a reason and leave it alone.

She'd only put it away when she's ready to return to the dorms.

Uno stalked her way down the makeshift hall and peered around at all the dark shadows. She found a stable boy nestled in a pile of hay and frowned. She could tell by the whisky bottle in his hand that he wouldn't wake up any time soon. She turned and glanced at several of the horses and noticed a few of them were marked with names. The ones that were empty of ownership held light colors and Uno reeled away from being caught on a brightly colored horse at night. Near the end of the path, in the final stall which was much larger than the rest, stood a gate without a name and a horse encased entirely in black.

She smirked. _Bingo. I found just what I need._

Uno reached the gate and noticed it was locked. Frowning down at the padlock, she found it was a rather simple one to pick, but decided that if anybody had locked this horse up there was a purposely good reason for it. Instead, Uno glanced back to check on the stable boy and finding him still asleep, she hoisted up her skirts and climbed over the gate.

The horse took a step back and whined, tossing its head up into the air at the intruder. After getting back to her feet, Uno ducked and rushed towards the beast. Her hands instinctively went to mane of the hose and she began petting its muscular neck.

"Shh," she whispered.

She continued to hush the horse and quickly went to the side where a birdle and saddle hung on a few hooks. Removing it, Uno returned to the stallion and prepared the steed, readying him for a ride into the night air. As soon as he was ready she hoisted her skirts back up and climbed on top. The horse whined, throwing his head back, but Uno massages its neck and mane while she cooed it. As soon as she had full control, she grabbed the reins and kicked the horse into running into a full circle around the stall then with a soft cry, she galloped him from the back of the stable towards the gate.

The horse leaped into the air and landed on the other side. Swiftly, she guided the animal out of the stables and off into the wilderness that sat besides them and away. She kept to the shadows, hoping nobody would be able to make out the woman in a blue velvet dress, riding a black stallion with a European saddle and not a European side saddle. Uno lowered herself to the horse, signaling the creature to quicken its speed, and soon enough she was in darkness, surrounded by a forest of trees.

The black horse quickened its pace and took Uno deeper into the woods. It leaped over a few scattered logs that have fallen, several branches that have become nothing but mangy bushes, and even over a few heavy puddles that appeared laden with mud. Uno galloped the creature deep into the night, letting it guide her to wherever it desired to go. She closed her eyes and let the wind whip past her body in a fast blur. If she toned her ears corrected and ignored the hammering of hooves on the soft earth, she would have almost expected to open her eyes back up and be seated on her sport bike, cruising dangerously down the freeway in opposite direction of the traffic.

But she opened her eyes and found the same thing she saw when she closed them. Dark trees lurked around her in every angle and the horse continued running, sending the cool night air to smack Uno in the face. She sat up, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back, allowing her long brown braid to flap in the wind. Excitement flooded her veins much as her blood rushed through them and for a brief moment, Uno almost forgot where she was and what had happened to her.

Almost.

Being on horse back in a dress wasn't something that's happened in her mission-filled life. Even when she had to sneak into the Government party, dressed as a date for a high named Government official, she never fled in a dress. In fact, she had waited until his limo delivered them back to his estate before shooting him in the head.

_You wanted a goodnight's kiss,_ she thought to herself as she sped home on her bike after shedding the horrible, light blue dress off after the assassination was completed, _you got it. Straight to the brain, that kiss hit you hard like a bullet._

Uno opened her eyes and returned to the matters at hand. She pulled back on the reins and slowed the black horse to a crawl, allowing him to rest. What she pulled them up to was magnificent all on its own. In fact, she never saw anything copied off its beauty in the era she came from. It was a lake, albeit small, however; but a lake nonetheless. And off to the back of the lake was a small cliff with a waterfall. From where she sat on the back of the horse the sight was stunning.

Uno choked out on her next breath and stifled a smirk. "Well I'll be damned," she mumbled. And indeed it was a sight for sore eyes. "Maybe now I can bathe."

She knew the girls at the Paris opera house bathed in tubs but Uno was a modernized girl; she hated bathing unless she _had_ too and she was on the verge of realizing she had no other choice until she stole the horse for a midnight ride. Now, finding the waterfall had been like finding a vortex communication link to the future; it was just too good to be true.

However, sadly, it wasn't anything compared to that vortex communication link to the future she was still in search of.

Uno took a deep breath. "Well horsy," she brushed her hand against the creature's black mane and petted him, "I think it's time we get back to the stables."

When Uno returned with the mare she strolled casually up to the stables, still seated on top of the creature's back. She stopped just outside of the stable doors and narrowed her eyes. Her surroundings, outside and stable and in, proved to show nothing out of the ordinary and the hour was high into the night that she knew not a soul would be around. With a quick nod of her head, she kicked the horse and galloped him into the stable. He leaped over the gate and almost instinctively she jumped down from his back.

"Good boy," she whispered while she petted his neck once again. "Good boy."

Uno removed the heavy clothing from the horse and replaced it on the hooks off to the side of the stable. He whined and threw his head back and immediately she went to his side and petted him once again. After a few more shushes and cooing, Uno managed to get the black mare under control. She hoisted her skirts back up, climbed over the gate, and readjusted herself once she was set.

The stable boy was still asleep in the same position and after waving her hand in his face to see if his lids blinked, Uno made haste and stepped away entirely. She replaced the previous saddle back on the hooks near the front stable doors and picked up her lantern. The flame was still lit and Uno waited until she was back inside the Opera Populaire's dark halls before brightening the tiny fire.

She shut the door slowly behind her and waited a moment before taking another step, waiting until her eyes fully adjusted to the darkness that now surrounded her. Part of her wanted to return to the roof but she knew that she had to get to bed. If she didn't get to sleep soon then she would still be sleeping when the rest of the ballet woke up and that was something Uno didn't need on her conscious.

She didn't need to be an easy target for La Marcella to take notes of. And with what Justin used to tell her—and Madam Giry, very recently—she murmured names of her past in her sleep. No. Uno definitely did not need _that_ on her conscious. It was bad enough to watch her every move; now she would have to watch her every breath even as she slept.

Finally, she could make out shapes in the darkness and began heading in the direction towards the dorms. Perhaps tomorrow Uno would ask for a bar of soap—unless they use something else to bathe with—and head out into the night to return to the waterfall. However, she knew one thing for certain: if she didn't get cleaned soon, her battle fatigue aroma will begin to get stronger and much harder to bear.


	11. Cold Hearted Perfection

_yawns I emailed this site to question the truth regarding that stupid petition. I told them what's been going around and asked if it was true or if some demented asshole is getting people's account information to steal into YOUR lives. Oh well... I'm still waiting for a reply._

_Some of you may not like what I do later in this chapter, but what am I saying? Most of you don't like Christine to begin with! -hears Uno call her a bleeding heart-_

_Hehe... enjoy... 22 pages long._

_(Just added in a day after the recent upload) BTW: the lyrics you see down below are of Evanescence, called **My Last Breath**; I have never heard this song before so if any of you have it, please give me a copy._

* * *

**- Chapter Eleven -**

Erik watched as the young ballerina took a heavy sigh and pushed away from the edge of the rooftop once more. She turned and glanced down at the papers she held in her hands, frowning. His brows knitted together in wonder at what the papers consisted of. The only clue he had was the devastated look on the young girls face as she continued to reread it over and over again.

_What the devil does she have in her hands?_ He pondered silently. Erik stayed put on his perch of Apollo's mare but desperately wanted to leap down and rip away whatever she held onto.

_Perhaps it is a letter from _ _America_ he decided. _A letter regarding a death in the family, perchance?_

He didn't know anything and after another sigh from Uno he realized he wasn't going to figure out just staying in the shadows. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out softly. He was just about to open his mouth and speak to her through the statue when he noticed something about her face. Erik frowned and leaned closer, yet still managing to remain in the shadows. Her face was glistening with sparkles.

_What on earth could be in that letter to have made her cry?_

Uno shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders back to regain her composure. Erik watched as she pulled herself together before glaring down at the parchment in hand.

"No," she snarled out. Erik paused and was suddenly weary as to who she was talking to or what she was talking about.

"I won't let it affect me like this," she added in. Erik leaned back and cocked his head to the side, watching her attitude switches happen as swiftly as a bee's sharp turn.

"You are in the past," she paused and took something out from behind her neck, "and you won't affect me anymore."

_What the devil is she doing?_

Erik watched as she laid the paper down on the ground and brought to life a flame in her fingers. His eyes widened at her remarkable talent, producing fire in her fingertips. She lit the corners of the papers the waved her hand in the air. It appeared she had dropped something onto the ground besides the burning paper.

"That's enough," Uno demanded. She stood up and with one final glance at the flaming parchment she turned and retrieved into the building.

Erik immediately jumped down and ran to the fire-lit parchment. By the time he reached it the flames were lapping away a good portion of whatever was written on it but he was still capable of making it out. Putting the fire out and picking up the discarded letter, he glanced at the writing and scanned its contents. He half expected it to be a note from America but he was wrong—way wrong. They were just short paraphrases but they were written in stanza format, as if it were poetry without a rhyme.

_Hold on to me love—you know I can't stay long. _

_All I wanted to say was 'I love you and I'm not afraid'; _

_Can you hear me? _

_Can you feel me in your arms?_

Erik's brows knitted together and he flipped the paper over but found nothing written on the back. Returning to the front, he read a few more lines of the questionable letter.

_Holding my last breath—safe inside myself are all my thoughts of you… _

_Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight._

A suicide note was the first thought that came to mind; only a suicide note to whom? Who was this girl referring too for the thoughts? Pondering the answers, he read on.

_I'll miss the winter; a world of fragile things. _

_Look for me in the white forest, hiding in a hallow tree… _

_… come find me… _

_I know you hear me; _

_I can taste it in your tears. _

_Holding my last breath—safe inside myself are all my thoughts of you… _

_Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight._

Erik turned away from the words and glanced down at the ground, hoping to find something else to answer this riddle. Instead, all he found was a tiny stick, no bigger than a broken piece of a twig from the branch of a tree; and it appeared burnt.

It was a matchstick but had she not lit fire by her finger tips? Perhaps she had a talent for magic and knew how to create fire as he knows how to create fireballs?

Erik returned to the letter and finished the final lines, his answer still not found.

_Closing your eyes to disappear, _

_You pray your dreams will leave you here. _

_But still you wake and know the truth. _

_…No one's there…_

_Say goodnight… _

_Don't be afraid… _

_Calling me—calling me as you fade to black…_

Erik reread the odd poem once again. Despite the charcoal color that had coated the parchment from the fire she ignited, the letter itself seemed oddly suicidal. Why was this girl so tortured and always depressed when she was alone? Why did she write odd poetry about death and suicide?

And the question that really stumped him was regarding her intelligence. If Uno knew how to play the piano, sing, dance, write poetry, _and_ produce lyrics that appeared to be from the top of her head, how extensive can her talents really go by just being a ballerina in the Opera Populaire? He knew there wasn't much of a chance for a woman to make herself in the world of today, but with all the talent she possessed, why only choose ballet when her voice was excellent enough?

_I think it's time, dear Uno, you show _ _Paris__ exactly how strong those lungs can take to a pretty voice._

After the opening tomorrow night, Erik knew exactly who will be singing within the second act.

-

A knock sounded on Madame Girys door and when the older woman answered it she found Uno on the other side, arms crossed over her chest. The woman frowned and opened the door a little more.

"Is something amiss, Uno?" She asked.

Uno shook her head. "I just need my cigarettes and lighter."

The woman frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Those things that came out of my pockets," Uno explained. "There's something I need to get out of them."

"Do you think it's safe?" Madame Giry countered.

Uno sighed deeply. "I need a smoke really bad. We have the opening in under a few hours and as of lately, my nerves have been horribly undone."

"Smoke?" The woman's eyes widened. "Uno—that is dangerous to your health."

Uno stepped inside the room and shut the door behind herself. "I know," she returned. "But you have no idea the amount of stress that's on me at the moment."

"And yet you had this habit while you fought?" Apparently, Madame Giry was unable to believe Uno's toxic habit in her youthful state. "You know it is not healthy, especially for a ballerina."

Uno rolled her eyes and glanced off to the side. "Don't remind me," she retorted. "But since my friend died I haven't been able to vent out my stress and I adapted to smoking it out."

"You had a friend die—I'm sorry," the woman glanced away. Uno closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to pry out the rising images.

"Don't bring it up," she forced out through clenched teeth. "But I need them badly."

Madame Giry nodded and proceeded to the armoire to remove what little Uno asked for of her possessions. On the way she said, "I wonder how long it will be until these unhealthy addictions will slow down your perfection."

"I'm amazed you know they're unhealthy," Uno choked out in humor. "I thought most people nowadays smoked out of society's influence."

Madame Giry returned to her with lips pressed thin. "They do," she whispered back. "But I have seen first hand what these can do to you. I do not understand how these," the woman handed Uno the small box of cigarettes and the black box containing lighter fluid inside it, "can be entitled as cigarettes and heaven only knows what that black box is."

Uno stuck a cigarette into her mouth and handed the box back to the older woman. Cupping her hands around the end of the stick, she brought the lighter up to ignite the tip. "A lighter," Uno mumbled back. She lit the tip then handed it back to the ballet mistress.

Madame Giry frowned down at the black box holding lighter fluid and surveyed it. "A lighter?"

"Instead of using a match you just press the switch and a fire lights up, instead," the young girl explained. She removed the stick from her lips and blew out a breath of smoke off in another direction.

Madame Giry frowned and turned away to put the few items back where they were hidden. Uno closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she continued to puff the intoxicating fumes. The woman returned a moment later and stood firm, watching the young girl destroy her lungs.

"Are you ready for tonight?"

Uno sighed and blew out a puff of smoke. "Yeah," she replied lazily. She stuck the stick back into her mouth and glanced back at the older woman. "Yeah I'm set to go."

The woman nodded her head. "You must hurry and head toward the seamstress to pick up your costume. I am certain it fits but just to be certain she will want you to try it on. These past few rehearsals I have had the ballet dance in their costumes; however, you were not attending those."

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "You told me not to."

"That I did," the woman breathed out. She watched Uno turn and open the door. "Good luck tonight, Uno. May heaven rest upon your shoulders and grant you eternal luck."

Uno snorted a chuckle and removed the stick from her lips. Turning around to give the woman a smirk before shutting the door, Uno retorted, "Heaven sneers down at me while Hell looks up; I won't need any luck."

-

Erik adjusted his cloak and reclaimed his seat within his usual location, Box Five. He was ready and prepared the watch how well the new ballerina would perform. Her 'letter' was neatly tucked away in a secret hiding place back in his lair and the words for the next letter he would deliver to the managers were still forming in his head. He was ready to make Uno a star and by his word, he would be obeyed without any distractions.

The musicians warmed up and Monsieur Reyer began conducting a few minor pieces to help seat the audience. Erik turned and glanced at a few of the faces, instantly seeing one that put a bucket of rats in his stomach. Raoul and Christine were seated in a box a little off from across him and although they could not see him, he could clearly see them; it would be bothering him all during the act.

Soon, the music to the first act started up and instantly a few of the ballerinas leaped onto stage to begin their dances. Erik smirked, seeing Uno with her long braid wrapped into a bun, twirling around as the center ballerina for the five dancers. In accordance to her moves the other ballerinas followed and soon several more danced onto stage from the side.

Erik noticed one of those ballerinas was Madame Giry's daughter, Meg. Meg twirled and leaped gracefully into the air and when she joined sides with Uno, he had noticed the two of them made quite a duet together.

After the ballet had completed their act and made way for the diva, La Carlotta, Uno and the many other dances had quickly escaped the horrible toad and took shelter back stage. After the ballet Erik no longer cared for the show and decided to leave. He had seen enough and hearing was another thing he wasn't ready to do.

_Perhaps when Uno agrees to sing,_ he decided. _Until then, La Carlotta, you may have your spotlight._

-

"Uno." Uno stopped and turned back to see the ballet mistress catching up to her. "You did well, child."

Uno stifled a smirk. "I told you I didn't need luck."

The woman nodded with a sigh. "I have somebody who wishes to meet you."

Uno groaned inwardly, knowing exactly who it was that desired to meet her so suddenly. Madame Giry moved out of the way so Christine could step up to the younger girl. With a wide smile, Christine extended her hands, waiting for Uno to place hers within them. Uno stole a quick glance at the older woman and noticed the stern gaze radiating off of her. That alone told Uno all she needed to know. Immediately, Uno put on a fake grin and set her hands within Christine's.

"Hello, Madame de Chagny," Uno remarked with glee. She gave off a twinkle in her eyes to charm the Viscountess.

"Uno," Christine giggled, "please just call me Christine. I am still not quite used to all that royal talk."

"As you wish," Uno replied genuinely. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the look of absolute shock on the ballet mistress's face. "But I only wonder as to why you are out of your seat. Do you not wish to view the rest of the play?"

Christine smiled and tilted her head to the side. "No Uno, I never had an ear to hear Carlotta sing."

Uno glanced off to the side and grumbled, "Looks like I'm not the only one, then."

Christine giggled. "Apparently," she agreed. Uno smiled brightly up at the royal girl before her and removed her hands from their grasp. "You are an incredible dancer. Madame Giry tells me that you have managed to learn the entire act in only your first day here."

Uno nodded. "That's right." She turned to smile at the older woman with a charming grin. "I have a God-given talent and I praise every use I get out of it."

"That is wonderful," Christine said softly through her smile. Uno glanced back into Christine's dazzling brown eyes. "You are truly a remarkable dancer. Just by watching you on stage I wouldn't think you to have succeeded the act in only a day."

Uno shrugged and looked off to the side. "I won't stop practicing until I've accomplished a task."

"Wow," Christine said dreamily. "My husband and I, both, really feel you brought the ballet to life, tonight. Even when I danced I could never fully get into the characters part that I was supposed to portray."

Uno smiled and allowed a blush to creep into her cheeks. "Well as I said, I have a talent that I cherish. Why do you not dance anymore?"

"Oh—well I am married!" Christine exclaimed, placing a hand upon her chest. "I can't be a ballerina when I'm married to the Viscount."

"Oh I know that," Uno blew off with a wave of her hand. Christine and she giggled for a brief moment and Uno, decided on prying information out of her new 'friend' to learn more about the people around her, came out with a new conclusion.

"But I'm sure you didn't _always_ dance, did you? I believe I once heard you sang, as well. Also, I heard that you put La Carlotta in her place." Uno grinned from the side and noticed a part of Christine's face flushed with a pale blush, as if she were frightened yet still flattered.

"Oh I… was," Christine said softly, suddenly quieted. Uno frowned, puzzled by her change of tone. "I sang for the last few acts before I married off."

"What happened?" Uno questioned softly with a fake concern. Apparently, Christine fell for it and believed Uno to be a caring friend. "I was told you stopped a year _before_ you wed the Viscount."

Christine nodded and lowered her head, her tone going with it. "I did, I…" She frowned and stared into Uno's eyes. "Uno, have you heard about the phantom of the opera?"

"You mean the opera ghost?" Uno quizzed. Alarm shot through Christine's eyes before she briefly nodded and pressed her lips together. "Yes… I have heard of him and _from_ him."

Christine's eyes shot wide. "He sent you a letter?"

Uno frowned and murmured, "Why does that alarm everyone?"

Christine glanced around to see if they were alone and noticing the ballet mistress had left but they were still surrounded by a bustle of life, Christine grabbed Uno's hand and pulled her down the halls. Uno, mostly in a state of shock at the girl's actions, followed behind swiftly. Before Uno could question where Christine was taking her, they stepped into the washroom for the women on the second floor of the prop hallways. Christine shut the door and locked it before turning around to stare Uno in the eyes.

"Do not worry—he cannot see nor hear us in here," Christine explained. Uno frowned and glanced around in question.

"Who?"

"The phantom," Christine answered. "Had he not told you anything? He is the owner of this building."

Uno rolled her eyes and smirked back at the girl before her. "He mentioned I was an exquisite dancer."

Christine smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "According to your audition, you were incredibly talented. I am sure that was what he was referring too."

Uno shrugged and blew the topic off. Turning away, she added in softly, "And he said not to displease him."

At that, Christine's eyes got as wide as saucers and her mouth gaped open. Uno smirked at the girl's expression and raised a finger to shut her gaping look. At the cold touch of Uno's hands, Christine shook herself out of it and stared at the ballerina.

"Y-you must listen to him," she warned. "If you do not he will find a way to make your stay a horrible one!"

"And how does he assume to do such a thing?" Uno pondered, crossing her arms over her chest. "He has nothing against me."

"He will find something," she warned. "The phantom will not stop at anything to find something against you, Uno. You must be very careful. Madame Giry had told me you are from America; I don't know how things are dealt with in America, but here there is no way for him to get into trouble with the law. He was once a wanted man for kidnapping me and setting this building aflame, but he cannot get in trouble again."

Now Christine had Uno's full attention caught. Narrowing her eyes and leaning back against the countertops, Uno regarding Christine at a whole other angle. The girl's serious brown gaze stared into Uno's violet orbs with alarm.

"Tell me," Uno began, her earlier words of charm no longer evident in her voice, "what happened when you were in the basement of the Opera Populaire?"

"What?" Christine gasped, unable to comprehend what Uno was asking.

"What made you flee from the stage in fear of returning and marry off to Raoul as quickly as you had?"

"I d-don't understand what you're talking about," Christine lied. "You've lost me."

"Now don't give me that bullshit," Uno spat out. She dropped her hands to the sides of her body and spun around, putting Christine behind her. The mirror before Uno reflected back the gawking girl and the cold hearted assassin, no longer hiding behind her previous delicate smile.

"I know there's _something_ going on in this opera house," Uno paused and cocked her head to the side, "and it appears I'm the only one who doesn't know what that something is. Why is that, Christine?"

"E-excuse me?" Christine stuttered out.

Uno cocked her head to the other side, throwing Christine a wondrous look through the mirror. "I mean, after all, isn't it only right that the newest member of the Opera Populaire know the _true_ story behind the legendary Opera Ghost and Christine Daae, that way that new ballerina would know what _not_ to do in order to prevent the same thing from happening again?"

"I-I don't understand what you're talking about," Christine stumbled out.

"God, you remind me of Relena," Uno murmured.

"Honestly Uno… I don't." Uno turned around to see Christine giving her a sad smile. "I really don't see what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Uno fought back nonchalantly. "Why try and hide it, Christine? I only want to know what happened. Do you _want_ something as _horribly dramatic_ to repeat and happen again?" Uno was certain to add meaning behind her words, hinting at the seriousness of her statements.

"Do you?" Uno repeated.

Christine stood gaping at Uno, unaware of whatever she should say next. Uno noticed the look in the girl's eyes that had told her she had gone too far. But there was no turning back now. There was a history to this building that Christine played a huge part of and Uno wanted to know all about it.

"Uno," Christine breathed out, "you're different."

Uno turned away and waved her hand in the air. "Don't change the topic, Christine. I only want to know the truth. Did he try and rape you? Attack you violently? Did he shed his skin and look like a monster?"

"Uno please," Christine choked out. Uno turned and saw a fresh tear falling from her left eye. "You don't know how deeply your words have just hurt me."

Completely at a loss now, Uno frowned. "What did I say?"

"I do not think he looks like a monster," Christine said softly, allowing a few more tears to fall. "But his soul is what makes him the monster that he is."

"His soul?" Uno's brows knitted together.

Christine nodded, her tears falling like endless flowing rivers of remorse. "Yes Uno. Have you not known that a person's soul can condemn them to their darkest fate for eternity?"

Uno snorted. "I have seen plenty of demons disguised as humans," she scoffed out. "In fact, I have come close to engaging one of them, once."

Christine nodded and sniffled. "He forced me to wed him, Uno. He had told me that if I did not accept, that he would kill Raoul."

Uno stared closely at Christine's face and saw the girl had an eternal loss in her eyes. Slowly, her own heart began to beat for this retired ballerina but her face would not display it. Uno knew how to keep her emotions in check and although she could feel Christine's pain, there was nothing in the world that could _ever_ compare to her own.

"Raoul had chases us down into the bowels of the basement and tried to fight him for me, but he wasn't fast enough and soon he was strangled. If I had chosen to stay with Raoul then the phantom would have kill him," Christine continued. "I loved Raoul since we were children and I wanted him to be happy, even if I couldn't be with him."

"So you chose the phantom instead, making Raoul lead a life of heartache?" Uno summed up. Uno's words tore through Christine's aching tears and made more escape from her now closed lids. "Or did you expect Raoul to search far and wide for you, to steal you back and your captor?"

"Uno," Christine gasped out for air. "All my life, the phantom acted like my father, giving me voice lessons and taught me how to sing. He solely wanted me to sing for his music and when he learnt I wouldn't give him that, he grew jealous of the Viscount. He later fell in love with me and, once again, was jealous of Raoul for being charming and able to be in public."

"Why couldn't the phantom be in public?" Uno retorted sarcastically. "Would the public be cruel to him?"

"Yes!" Christine snapped back. Uno's expression wiped clean of emotion and after the girl's outburst, shock soon took over. "He looks much different than normal people and he would be pointed out in public for his differences."

"People here are horrible," Uno scoffed out. Christine stopped weeping for a moment and glanced at her questionably. "Where I come from people are _expected_ to look different and not so primly proper and perfect."

"It is free of discrimination in America?" Christine gasped.

Uno felt stupid wash up and down her spine. Biting her lower lip, she turned away and murmured out, "Well… yeah… in a way."

Christine sighed and Uno saw a smile portray on her face. " America sounds like a great place. Perhaps he should go there to start over."

Uno slow nodded in agreement. "I uh… I think… you're… right," she remarked slowly.

Christine sighed and glanced at herself in the mirror. "My makeup has all gone running," she fumed.

"Sorry," Uno said sheepishly. She glanced down and frowned, fidgeting in place. "I guess I overreacted a little."

"No," Christine breathed out, "I should be the one to apologize to you."

Uno's face snapped up in shock. She did _not_ expect Christine de Chagny to take the blame of Uno's prying mind!

"You have the right to know what happened so you _wouldn't_ trace my footsteps. After all, you _are_ the best ballerina I believe the Opera Populaire had ever seen. Heaven knows if he will seek you out next for whatever purpose he may have,"

Uno opened her mouth to say something in return but the words just wouldn't form. She wasn't expecting an apology for her cruel words. In fact, she was half expecting Christine to flee with tears in her eyes and have Madame Giry come lecture her over hurting the Viscountess.

"Right," Uno blurted out. It was the only thing that even came to mind.

"Well," Christine finished wiping off her streaked makeup and smiled over at Uno, "I'm still pleased to have finally met you and share a word with you in private. I wanted to speak with you for a while now and was afraid I would have never gotten the chance."

Uno casually shrugged her shoulders and glanced away. "Eh yeah," she slurred out with a frown. "I'm sorry if I had hurt you at all. I have a tendency to be a little hard on things."

"That's alright," Christine replied. She turned back to greet Uno with one of her charming smiles. "I am still happy to have finally met with you."

Uno nodded. "So you decided to condemn yourself in order to save a life," Uno tallied up. "Self sacrifice, but for love."

Christine paused and regarded the ballerina for a moment. Suddenly, she decided to ask, "What would you have done had it been you?"

"I would have told them both no."

Christine gawked. "No? But that isn't right in Parisian society! Everyone had already seen Raoul and I together like a couple and they all knew the phantom was obsessed with me. Why, he was speechless every time he saw me!"

Uno shrugged her shoulders and brushed it off. "I don't care. I don't appreciate people who make demands of me. If they tell me to do something I will throw it right back in their stubborn faces and tell them to find another person willing to grovel to their feet."

"Uno," Christine said softly, "you do not understand our society. We cannot say one thing and do another; it is just wrong."

"I don't care about the 'Parisian' society," Uno rolled her eyes at the term used. "I care about myself and those who mean a lot to me. If I were put in that predicament I would have told them I chose neither and left. I don't care what would have happened to me. I wouldn't have anything on my conscious because if the phantom still killed Raoul, it would be on his own."

"He _has_ killed and he's not afraid to do it again," Christine explained.

Uno opened her mouth, about to say 'so have I' but stopped herself just in time. Instead, she turned away and shook herself to gather her thoughts back in order.

"I'm sorry," Uno muttered. "I'm still new to Paris. As I said, it's different in America."

Christine smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "I do believe it is different by far."

Uno nodded. "If you'd excuse me, I'd like to get this war paint off my face and change. This costume's a little itchy."

Christine giggled and unlocked the door to the washroom. "I take it the costumes in America are much different?"

"They don't make me itch," Uno retorted. Christine giggled and exited the room with Uno behind her.

"Well," Christine turned to her with a delicate smile. She wrapped her arms around Uno—who graciously returned the hug—and squeezed gently. "Thank you for understanding."

"I do my best," Uno replied with her previous charade of pleasing the royal faces. After bidding each other a goodnight's, Uno retreated towards the costume department.

-

Uno knocked on Madam Giry's door and was soon greeted by the older woman. Stepping inside the room, she shut the door behind herself.

"I wonder if I may inquire some soap from you," Uno asked. "I would like to bathe."

Madame Giry smiled. "Of course, Uno." She turned and headed towards her dresser. "I keep an extra bar of soap just incase."

"Incase you lose it?" Uno joked. Madame Giry gave her a puzzled frown when she turned back around and Uno merely shrugged her shoulders. "After the hairbrush, who's to say you won't misplace the soap?"

"Watch your tongue," Madam Giry snapped. She smiled not long after and Uno chuckled. After shutting the dresser drawer she returned to her student with a small bar of soap wrapped in a cream cloth. "The wash room has the tubs already placed. All you need to do is tell one of the boys to bring up some hot water for you and they will do just that."

Uno nodded, ignoring the information but acting as if she took it down, and received the bar of soap. Saying her thanks, she turned to go but was stopped by the woman's voice.

"I am amazed at how swiftly you changed your attitude when you spoke to Christine." Uno turned around slowly and stared at the woman's weary gaze. "I will admit I was stunned."

"Yeah," Uno slurred out. "Yeah—I have a tendency to do that."

Madame Giry nodded and Uno exited the room. As she made her way down through the halls a plea rang out in the open followed by heavy laughing. Frowning, Uno turned the corner and headed in the direction of the noise. She came across several members of the stage crew—Clement not being any of them—and a girl about the same age as herself, cornered by them. She gave off another plea as one of the men reached out to grab a fistful of her skirts and lift it up into the air. The men laughed despite the girl's pleas and struggle to push them off her and Uno noticed many of their faces were red and washed away, signaling them to be drunk.

"Stop that!" She cried out as another reached out to grab her skirts. "Please!"

More laughter and Uno felt her anger growing by the minute, remembering when she was confined to only shackles and chains while four soldiers circled around her.

_The room was cold and bare, metal encasing her every direction. Her wrists bled from the shackles that cut into them and her ankles were sore against her attempts to break free. Her body, aching badly and bleeding from a number of cuts and sores, sparkled in the bright lights despite the shadows that towered over her. _

_Uno raised her glazed eyes to the soldier before her and in a whispered plea, said, "Please?" _

_The man laughed and spat in her face. "No," he chuckled, soon being followed by the rest of his squad. "We're not stopping. We're having fun and we've only just begun!" _

_Uno tried again. "Please?" _

_The men around her laughed and another whip crackled out into the air, hitting her in the back and sending currents of pain up her spine. Uno screamed out as the men cheered on. _

_"Yeah it looks like this body's going to get a spanking for being disobedient," another soldier said from somewhere behind her. _

_She had managed to live past bullet wounds and drive-by shootings. She survived knife wounds, slit wrists and necks, and even fatal combat fights. She managed to remain sane against three self-manipulating machines that were ready to take her life at any moment. _

_But it wasn't until that very moment that Uno had learnt was real fear was. _

"Please!" The girl screamed out again. Uno shook her head to clear away her miserable flashbacks and snarled.

"Hey!" She called out. The stage crew stopped and turned to see the 'perfected' ballerina standing behind them. "I believe the girl told you to stop."

"Who are you?" One of them had slurred out.

Uno cursed beneath her breath. "Leave or I'll have the phantom tell you to leave," she warned. She found she chose the right words this time, seeing as the looks on the men's faces turned to fright. Immediately, they turned and shuffled away in a hurry, leaving Uno and the young girl alone.

"Thank you," the girl breathed out with a weak smile. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her blue eyes sparkled in response to Uno's actions.

Uno nodded her head. "Watch out when you're around here. These men do nothing but get drunk by the seconds."

"Yeah," she agreed. She stepped up towards Uno and stifled another weak smile. "Madame Giry was supposed to show me to the dorms after the play but I couldn't find her. I tried looking, still, and when I asked one of the crew I guess they decided a different reply was needed."

Uno snorted. "Madame Giry's in her room. I guess she must have forgotten about you. Are you new?"

The girl nodded. "My parents shipped me here from America so yes; I came alone to be a ballerina."

A cold chill ran down Uno's spine. America? Everyone will expect the two of them to have met already and if not, expect them to become good friends.

"Follow me if you wish to speak with Madame Giry," Uno stated nonchalantly before turning around and heading back down the hall she just emerged from. The girl quickly caught up and followed her.

"What is your name?" She asked. Uno was silent before replying. "I am Charline. It's nice to have met you, Uno. You already seem like a nice girl."

Uno snorted at that comment. _Nice? She has no idea._

Frowning, Uno turned back to question her. "Charline is a French name." Charline nodded. "But you're American?"

"My Grandmother was French and her name was Charline."

"Oh."

"So naturally, after she passed away and I was born a year after on her birthday, my parents felt to name me after her, thinking I was a reincarnation of my grandmother."

Uno sighed and knocked on Madame Giry's door. The older woman opened and saw Charline, instantly bowing her head to the new girl.

"There you are, Charline. I was worried you have gotten lost and when I searched and could not find you, I have expected Meg to have found you already," the woman explained.

Charline frowned. "Meg?"

Madame Giry smiled. "My daughter." She turned and nodded her head at Uno. "I see you have met our exquisite dancer."

Charline's eyes lit up and she turned to Uno with shock. "_You're_ that famous dancer I heard the audience ranting about tonight?" Uno groaned and turned away.

"That she is," Madame Giry said firmly. "Uno why don't you show Charline to the empty bed besides yours. Tracie has already returned to England after tonight's play and she will no longer be accompanying our opera staff."

Uno sighed and nodded her head. "Alright."

Charline bowed her head. "I shall see you tomorrow, Madame Giry?"

The woman nodded sternly. "And tomorrow you will audition for us all. Do not worry it will not be to join the ballet, since you have come straight from the Metropolis Ballet in New York. Your audition will be like Uno's. Just for a part in our next act."

Charline nodded. "Alright. Goodnight, Madame Giry."

Madam Giry bowed her head to both girls before shutting her door. Uno turned and strolled down the hallway, Charline following behind. It was quiet for a moment before Charline realized something and spoke up.

"Uno?"

"Hrm?"

Frowning, Charline glanced at the ground. "How did you know my name was of French origin?"

Uno kept her head hanging and her eyes closed, knowing how many footsteps were left to complete the hallway before having to turn down another corridor.

"I looked it up once," was all Uno said.

"_Just_ my name?" Charline pondered, unable to believe the reply.

"It was an old friend's middle name."

"Oh."

"It's meaning is 'manly'," Uno added in. "Did you know that?"

"No." Charline glanced down with another thought. "What was your friend's name? Perhaps I knew of her if you came from America?"

At this, Uno froze and spun around to stare into Charline's eyes. "How did you know I came from America?" She barked.

Charline stood rigid, fear creeping up her spine. "I h-heard the guests s-say that the opera's incredible ballerina was f-from America," she stuttered out.

Uno did not believe that and her eyes narrowed. "They don't know me by name," she explained cautiously. "Only the Viscount and his wife, not counting the ballet, know that."

Charline nodded and gulped back her fear. "I spoke to Madame Giry earlier and she told me you're from America. I'm sorry for knowing and not telling you. I thought everyone knew."

Uno's eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed. Turning back around, she breathed out, "Well they don't." She continued heading towards the dorms.

"I'm sorry for starting anything," Charline said softly, following behind Uno's footsteps. "I didn't mean for anything rude. I was hoping you and I could be friends, coming from America and all."

_I knew it,_ Uno groaned inwardly. She didn't need any friends. She was just content with being by herself in a world that didn't know _nearly_ as much as she knew, waiting for that vortex communication link back home so she could call Justin and tell him she was trapped in the nineteenth century.

When Uno entered the dorms she found La Marcella sitting on the floor in front of her dresser, fingertips bleeding, and a snarl on her lips. Uno paused, seeing the prime ballerina failing at opening her rival's drawers.

"You!" La Marcella barked out as she leaped up to her feet. "You have stolen my spotlight and I will _not_ tolerate anymore of it! And look! Look at what you have done to my fingers!"

She shoved her hands in Uno's face but like Uno was in the past at seeing her comrade's injuries, she only ignored them and stared the figure in the face. Several other ballerinas cringed away from the sight and screamed, terrified for whatever purposes Uno knew wasn't theirs.

"Look!"

"What about it?" Uno questioned.

"Look what you made me do!"

"I didn't make you do anything," Uno retorted. She shoved past Marcella and Charline followed behind. "You're the stupid idiot who tried to pry into my personal belongings. Just because you couldn't open a measly dresser drawer doesn't give you reason to put the blame of your _hurt_ fingertips on me when it's _my_ dresser drawer to begin with."

Uno took a seat on the edge of her cot, ignoring the stunned expressions on the faces of all the other ballerinas. Charline quietly seated herself on her own bed across from Uno's and glanced around at everyone with a frown. Uno crossed her arms over her chest, the bar of soap _still_ in her hands from before, and hung her head. She closed her eyes and tried to drown out the noises coming from around her.

"And who is this new girl?" Marcella asked, finally noticing Charline. "Another witch? I hear she's from America as well."

"I'm not a witch," Charline fought back weakly. Uno opened her eyes and saw Charline frowning up at Marcella. "Why do you think I'm a witch?"

"You _look_ like a witch and you are friends with _that_ one!" Marcella shot a bloodied, accusing finger over at Uno.

Charline glanced at Uno and saw Uno was staring at her without any expression on her face whatsoever then turned and glanced back at Marcella.

"But I'm not," she defended herself softly. Uno closed her eyes. "I'm not a witch. I can't be if they're against my religion."

"You're religion is evil!" Marcella barked out. "You're a witch just like Uno!"

Uno sighed. "Shut up, Marcella," she growled out. The room went as still as a doornail. Uno raised her head up to glare Marcella. "Charline is new here and does not know a single thing about the Opera Populaire. If you keep flapping those prostituted lips of yours then you'll make her believe that the Paris opera house is nothing other than the sleeping quarters for every Moulin Rouge whore."

Marcella's mouth gaped at Uno and from the words she just heard thrown casually into the air by the American's voice. The other ballerinas gasped as well, shocked at the words Uno used and for what the reason was. Uno turned to see Charline's eyes, pleading a silent 'thanks'; Uno nodded her head in response.

"I need some air," Uno murmured. She glanced down at Charline with a sudden frown.

"Do you not have any clothes?"

"I-I have clothes but the delivery service will deliver them here t-tomorrow," Charline stumbled out, nervous after Uno's earlier remark.

Uno nodded and turned to go. She badly needed a shower before her battle fatigue scent radiated off her. Already, Marcella had begun to cause herself to bleed at the fingertips and Uno knew that in only a moment's time, worse things would begin to take effect.

-

Erik sighed and laid back on the statue of Apollo's mare once again, staring up into the night sky where a million stars shined down upon him. The play proved to be another hit. Hundreds of faces went home thrilled, pleased at such a remarkable act with stunning dancers and powerful singers.

Uno was incredible and he could hardly wait to cast her as the prime diva for the next act. If she worked as persistently to perfect her dance steps it was certain she would do the same to perfect her singing. It would be a remarkable showing from then on, if he could get her to sing.

And he intended to.

But all he needed to do was think of some way to get the mangers to believe another ballerina would be an incredible voice. Christine proved to be talented but would his foolhardy managers _really_ want to repeat history? Erik knew he would have to do _some_thing to get them to obey his demands.

With an inhale as to what he would write, Erik slid down off the mare's solid back and retreated inside the dark hallways of the building. Normally, he would take to the shades and ponder as to why Uno didn't come out to the rooftop as she so often does, but for tonight, he felt he had better return to his dungeon of a home and propose a few of the letters needed to make his demands met.

* * *

_I bet all of you were wanting Erik to chase her into the stables, eh? hehehe... YOU GOTTA WAIT FOR THE EXOTIC BEAUTY SCENES! THEY DON'T COME UP FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER FEW CHAPTERS!_

_And to those who review... I will give you all FREE passes to the classy night club not but ten minutes from my house, called **HUSH** and you ALL get to go with Erik for one night... each night is your own. hands out single night passes to each reviewer That's right! One person get's the pass for one night and Erik is a free bonus gift. The next night is another person, and so on down the line. You all have until five in the morning to return him, so make whatever you like out of the night while you can! winks_


	12. Common Causalities

Yay! _I now have up my Ebay account. People, please see what I have and I hope some of you will be willing to buy them. My account name is the same as my penname: Kitty Felone._

I _**must**_ say this chapter is _**BY FAR**_ the **BEST** chapter in _**ALL**_ of three of the Duo's Child fics. This explains things that I never even EXPECTED to happen back in Duo's Child one! It explains her personality during Duo's Child 2--which was within the war--and even a little before that, when her life was still a happy one. I DO remember trying to tell the readers of DC1 to look closely at the chapter of Relena's Training, where she expressed her hatred to the Govnerment and explains how she hacked into Heero's laptop, but I highly doubt many of you listened to that. It shows it in here. And if you still haven't read that chapter, you must! It's Duo's Child--Relena's Training. Good chapter, explainsa LOT about Uno (if not this chapter in THIS fic) and if you have time, watch Endless Waltz... though I highly doubt you'll understand that movie without seeing the 49 episodes of Gundam Wing.

I have to say Gundam Wing (and all Gundam series, that is--EXCLUDING GUNDAM SEED WHICH IS NOTHING BUT A STUPID REMAKE OF GUNDAM WING!) is the **BEST** anime/cartoon dealing with the Government you will EVER see. It explains SO much about politics and war you have NO idea.

Okay well... I hope you all have fun. As I said, this is one of the best chapters I have ever written about Uno Maxwell.

* * *

**- Chapter Twelve -**

_Theresa entered the massive Victorian Library and glanced around for her hostess. Dropping her belongings onto the floor, Theresa glanced around the outer rims of the main living quarters and frowned. Where would she be if she were Uno, she thought to herself? Finally, as if the thought occurred too late, she arched her back, tilted her head backwards, and found her best friend sitting in the tower, high above the center of all quarters of the library, directly on top of the living room. The tower was about five stories up and protected by nothing except for glass walls and ceilings—serving as windows—and small enough to sit a tiny couch and a silk plant; the only way to reach the tower would be by countless marble steps._

_Theresa smiled when she spotted her best friend sitting high above her with a book in her hands._

"_Hey Uno!" Theresa shouted out._

"Nanidesu_?" Uno replied softly, more intact into her reading._

_Theresa frowned. "Come down here you big butthead!"_

"Nani_?"_

"_Please?"_

"Nani_?"_

_Theresa fumed. "Please!" She screamed out._

"Nanidesu_?" Uno replied softly again, as if it were no big importance._

_Theresa grumbled and headed towards the staircase. For being seven-years-old it was a pain in the butt to be on a lower level than her best friend, who was only six and learning several languages at once. Theresa was _still_ trying to learn Japanese and here Uno is, speaking it as if she were born with the knowledge._

_And Theresa was an honor student whereas Uno was just a challengeable one!_

_When she finally reached the top step and landed in the tower, the windows gazing out over the vast trees and forest around them and the rest of the roof of the mansion—including the helipad for the Medical and Technology Wing on the other side of the building—Uno glanced up from her book with a big grin on her face._

"Konnichiwa_!" Uno expressed with glee. Theresa only stared at her nonchalantly, showing her current feelings. Uno frowned and cocked her head to the side._

"_What's the matter?" She asked her unhappy friend, apparently not realizing that she had teased her friend over the line, again._

_Theresa groaned and collapsed onto the top step, putting her back to Uno. She sighed and rested her chin on her hands which were propped up by her knees. With a roll of her eyes, she mumbled out, "What are you reading _now_?"_

_Uno glanced back down at the page she was on. "Latin," she replied casually._

_Theresa frowned. "Latin?" She turned around and crawled up to the edge of the couch to peer over the cover. "What's that?"_

"_A dead language," Uno replied as she scanned the next few entries of her new vocabulary._

"_Then why are you learning it?" Theresa stared at her._

_Uno shrugged her shoulders. "Wufei doesn't have time to teach me Chinese. I know Japanese because Heero made me learn it so I can stop asking what he says beneath his breath whenever he has a fight with Duo. I taught myself a little of Arabic so I can understand what Quatre says beneath his breath," Uno paused and turned to grin at Theresa. "Quatre's a _bad_ boy."_

_Theresa gawked at her, learning all the more how smart her friend was becoming in less than a year's span. "Uno," she murmured out. Uno shrugged her shoulders and returned to the book at hand. "You're so smart. I hate you now! I don't know that much!"_

_Theresa fumed and put her back to her friend once again, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. She stared down at the floor where her things still sat in the middle of the living quarters, five stories below. Uno frowned up from the book and glanced at Theresa's back._

_Suddenly, with a thought coming into her mind, she smirked. "Obviously not if your sitting on a flight of stairs that go up four levels with your back to me."_

_Theresa opened her mouth to say something and shut it, feeling all the more stupid with each passing breath she took._

"_Shaddup," she grumbled out._

She felt a presence above her, waking her from the slumber that thankfully let her rest. But there was something above her, waving in her face. Uno could feel it without opening her eyes, sense it without blowing air at it and waiting until it repelled against the figure. She allowed herself to wake without giving off a hint to her awareness, a task she had to teach herself incase the enemy broke in while she slept.

"What are you doing?" Somebody was whispering and even though it was soft enough to be missed or ignored, Uno caught it without ease.

"She's a witch." Yep. That voice was definitely Marcella without a doubt. "She's got a spell book and what better place to hide it than where she sleeps?"

"But what if we're caught?"

"Will you be quiet?" Marcella snapped. Uno felt her hand reaching over and knowing what would happen if she did what she was thinking of doing, she did it anyways, despite the consequences.

She whipped out and latched onto La Marcella's wrist with a death-like grip, her fingers clenching and her short nails digging into the silky-smooth flesh. Marcella shrieked.

Loud.

All the girls in the dorm snapped away and found her standing over Uno's bed. She tried to pry her arm away but found it was pointless to try as she couldn't even managed to wiggled in Uno's powerful grasp. Uno's eyes opened suddenly, frighteningly, and she stared up directly into Marcella's horrified gaze.

"If you insist upon waking up the entire country then do continue screaming," Uno muttered out. "But do it with the clear conscious that it is your own doing and not mine." Marcella struggled against the bondage grip until finally Uno opened her fingers and released the hold she had on the prima ballerina. Marcella stumbled back a few feet and nearly fell backwards.

Uno whipped her legs around until she sat on the side of the bed. She stared Marcella in the eyes, slowly narrowing her own until she was sending a current of negative energy through a fatal death glare. From the corners of her eyes she saw Charline sit up and watch with her own expression of shock.

"Y-you witch!" Marcella snapped. "You could have given me a heart attack you frightened me so badly!"

Madam Giry raced into the room and gazed around at all the wide-awake girls sitting up in their beds, clutching the sheets up to their necks. She turned to Uno and Marcella with a frown.

"What is the matter here?" She barked. "What was the reason for the scream?"

Marcella shot an accusing finger in Uno's direction. "She tried to kill us!" Her friend added in a soft 'yeah' off from the side. "She grabbed my arm and gripped me, like she was trying to break it!"

Uno groaned and hung her head. Madam Giry turned to glance at Uno with a frown. Uno ignored all the faces pointing at her and stood up from the bed, not caring about straightening up the sheets. She turned to the ballet mistress and saw the upset look on the woman's face.

"Forgive me," Uno bowed her head. "But when whispering wakes me from my sleep and I sense a presence lurking above me I tend to react rather quickly. She shrieked because she did not expect me to lash out defensively." Uno returned stern look Madam Giry gave her.

"Uno I—"

"Don't worry," Uno cut in. Turning away from the woman she headed towards the staircase that exited the from the room. "I'll see you in the morning." Madam Giry turned and watched as Uno left the room.

Uno took a deep breath and as she let it out it turned into a growl. "_Kuso_!" She snarled out. "_Abazureon'na sore_! _Yariman no baka sore_!"

Uno balled her fists by her sides as she made her way around the dark hallways of the Opera Populaire. It was high night—or rather, early morning—and normally she would continue to sleep for another few hours when she'd wake and begin her daily morning routines, but at the moment she was extremely stressed out. She hadn't a clue as to where she was going and at the moment she didn't care.

She paused after stepping through the second set of doors and found herself backstage. With a sigh, Uno hung her head and headed towards the center. There was a dim light off to the side and it gave a small ability to see where she was going, but it's not as if she really needed it.

She wrapped her arms around her body and shut her eyes. The thin black gown she wore held little warmth against her body and unless she wanted to return to the dorms and find Marcella and everyone else staring at her, wondering if she had gone off to a secluded hiding place to cast spells on everyone while she was away she had to make due with what she had.

"_Watashi ga attara hairitai_," (Translation from Japanese: I want to crawl into a hole and die,) She murmured beneath her breath. Uno felt as if the whole world were caving in on her with every breath she took and if she didn't watch her back every second, she'd be crushed with a full impact. She had Madam Giry warning her every second about slipping and letting her cover get blown. The opera ghost—or as Christine referred to him, the phantom—kept sending her notes, warning that she watch her tongue and heed his threats. And La Marcella, with every move Uno made, was watching and waiting for some mysterious witchy business to happen so she could catch Uno in some satanic act.

_Just wait until my birthday hits_, she mused silently. _That will sign away my soul despite my backgrounds if Marcella keeps insisting I'm a witch_.

Uno stopped at the edge of the stage and sighed. She opened her eyes and stared down into the pit where the some musicians have apparently left their sheet music. There was movement towards her right where the small light came from and turning her face she found one of the stage members who she had saw earlier. She frowned and saw, by the number of liquor bottles scattered around their bodies, that they were still drunk.

But appeared passed out.

Taking a step back from the ledge Uno proceeded to leave the stage incase of waking the aggressive crew members when her back bumped into something solid, something that wasn't there earlier. She frowned and craned her neck to see who it was and found another member of the stage crew. Spinning around to fully face him now, Uno saw his cheeks were flushed with red and his eyes were glazed over.

"Hey you're that girl who stopped us from having a bit of fun earlier," he slurred out. Uno narrowed her eyes and took a step back. "You caused my men a great deal."

"Don't even think about it," she growled, bringing a fist into the air to express the nature of her warnings. She felt the presence of another body behind her but before she could turn around a pair of hands grasped her shoulders firmly.

"You took away our fun," said the man behind her, his breath laden with whisky. Uno wrinkled her nose and glared up at the guy before her, both of her fists balling by her sides.

"Don't come closer," she seethed through clenched teeth, "or I'll have to hurt you."

The man smirked. "Such strong words coming from a rangy ballet rat," he spat out.

"Don't forget," Uno retorted through a smirk. "I'm a rat and rats bite hard."

She shot out her foot and brought it directly into the man's erecting bulge between his thighs. He screamed and doubled over to grip himself, amazed at the girl's extreme strength for only being barefoot. Uno spun around and slammed her curled fist into the other man's gut, sending him to stumble backwards. She leaped into the air and delivered her foot into his neck at a fierce speed. Her heel connected with his Adams apple and pressed; the vibrations of her kick traveled up through her leg and she felt the audible _crack_ of his neck rather than heard it. He stumbled back a few feet, guttering and choking on his broken neck, then suddenly died. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lost balance, causing his body to fall backwards, off the edge of the stage, and into the pit.

Uno cringed against the loud sounds of the music stands as they snapped and broke against the man's weight. She turned back around and saw the man she had kicked stumbling away from her, his arm up in the air.

"You—why did you do that?" He barked out. Uno's brows knitted together as she stalked up towards him.

"_Don't_ ever assume I'm as weak as everyone else!" She snapped. The man continued to back away from her but Uno didn't let him go and she charged, tackling him to the ground.

"People like you don't deserve to remain breathing," she growled as she straddled his chest.

Several hard blows were impacted upon his face and caused his mouth to bleed and his nose to break; however, Uno didn't stop just after a few punches. With every hit she through at him she grew angrier and angrier, making her punches get worse and worse. By the time Uno regained her control and composed herself to finally stop, the man beneath her was practically covered in blood, his nose broke to the side, his skull fractured in over twelve different locations, and his eyes swollen shut.

She didn't need a coroner to know he was dead.

"_Kuso_!" She seethed out.

Uno leaped up to her feet and backed away a few steps, stunned at what had just happened. She had just killed a man who only tried to touch her and nothing else. Men these days didn't kill a woman after they raped her; they merely let her live and denied everything or dropped a few coins by their spent bodies, as if they were nothing better than whores.

"What did I do?" She murmured out, stilled stunned to silence. "It's as if Zero took over me again."

But she knew that was impossible; that computer system has yet to even exist! How could a computer system, not yet created, manage to take over her mind when she wasn't even connected to its machine? Let alone how could she have not noticed the change until _after_ it had happened?

Memories of her childhood when she hacked into Heero's laptop came back, reminding her the first time she had seen the Zero system and countered its defensive systems. Could it have become one with her? Could the system have downloaded itself into her brain? Considering she was only six-years-old when she hacked into his machine and bypassed the binary systems and the other computer locks Zero had thought she was capable of handling its waves on an even _higher_ frequency than system control.

As in, mind control.

"Holy Hell," she murmured, shock slowly taking over her. "I've been possessed by Zero."

Uno glanced back at the body lying in the pit and the trail of blood leading away from the man's back, indicating where the destroyed music stand stabbed him, and then returned to the corpse lying on the stage. It was official, Uno decided. Wherever she was there was bound to be causalities.

Only in this world, _away_ from equal rights for men and women, Uno wouldn't have a way to get out of this mess. They would assume that since she has been away from the dormitories that she was around in the time of the accident. And after Marcella added in the two-cent worth of her fright upon Uno's death-like grip, Uno's name-calling would get worse.

"Not possible," Uno murmured. "It's not possible."

_Oh but it is_, replied a voice in her head. The voice sounded much like her own but it wasn't her. It was her voice but the tone was much darker and more sinister. It reminded her of the night she opened her bedroom door upon hearing gunshots and broke the soldier's neck with an ordinary high kick; only that dumbass shouldn't have been standing in her doorway, staring at her in shock. That voice reminded her of the time when she shot the poor woman, Tori Spactic, in the park around the children because if she hadn't then the company would have done it for her; Uno looked at it as if she had saved the woman from a much greater fate.

And by God that voice had reminded her of when Duo had died in her hands and how, after glancing around and seeing every other member of her family slain before her very eyes, she realized she was fighting the war for other people other than herself.

And then all went black and she woke up here, in Madam Giry's possession. She remembered what had happened, on how she ended the war, but she wasn't in control of the situation. She wasn't able to stop herself, to stop the madness as she killed the civilians along with the soldiers who tried to stop her. It was as if she were watching the scene take place through somebody else's eyes, unable to do anything.

"No," she breathed out as she took several steps back from the scene before her while her eyes slowly glazed over. The man's bloodied head became a soldier, like so many before, and in place of the dark stage that surrounded her she was in a forest surrounded by tall, dark trees looming over her. She had chased down four hunters in the forest and one of them she had blown his face away as if she were hunting for deer.

Hey, she was dressed like a redneck hunter, after all.

"It can't be."

_Why deny it_, the voice shot back, _when you know it's true? Just shut up and admit that you killed the two men, return to the dorms, and finish getting rest. If they ask, just tell them you passed by but weren't around. Only an idiot would assume to believe that bullshit and that's what you're surrounded by, idiots and nothing more._

That voice was definitely hers only it was darker. It was more sinister then she even assumed her voice could go.

"You're not real," she whispered. "You can't be." Uno backed into a wall, the two dead bodies still clear in her line of vision. She swallowed hard, her mouth gaping open at the realization that she had been possessed in the time during the war.

_Just shut the fuck up already,_ it barked back. _Without me you wouldn't have even_ survived_ that war. Yeah, so you tapped into all three mind controlling systems to help you fight when you piloted that mobile suite but did you really think you changed dramatically in over four measly months?_

"You're a mind-controlling system created by scientists," Uno murmured back. She tore her sights away from the two dead bodies and stared at the floor by her feet. She was so much in a state of shock that Madam Giry, the managers, or even La Marcella could be standing in the audience and she wouldn't even know.

_Look at the bodies and tell me if this 'mind controlling system' can kill on its own,_ it countered. Despite what Uno wanted to do, she turned and glanced back at the two corpses she had helped send to Hell. _Now tell me if a computer system could have done all that without a host._

"_Damate_," (Translation from Japanese: Shut up,) Uno whispered.

_Tell me!_ It returned.

"_Damate_!" Uno screamed out, her eyes clenching and her fists balling.

_If not for me you wouldn't have learnt all sixteen different languages in only a matter of five years! If not for me you wouldn't have learnt several martial art techniques in only a few years! If not for _me_ then _you_ wouldn't have managed to be as brave and smart as you are!_ That voice explained. Uno collapsed onto the floor on her weak knees and wrapped her arms around her body. She felt as if the weight of the world were collapsing on top of her. Her body shook violently, wracked with torture from all kinds.

"Please," Uno whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please just go away."

_Admit what you've become. You asked for strength I pushed you to the limits. You cried for life I kept you alive. You screamed for power I told you what had to be done. You wanted to follow in the footsteps of the life you were destined to lead and you came to me with open arms. All I did was hand myself to you in a wrapped box; you unwrapped me and unleashed the fury within. _You_ opened Pandora's Box; you and no one else._

"Oh my God," she breathed out through clenched teeth. "What have I done?"

She knew when she was little and hacked into his machine that she had broken a rule by going behind his back and pried into information that she shouldn't have been looking for. She just didn't know how badly that rule's consequences would have. It turned out when she thought she countered the Zero system's computer lock, it, in turn, countered her. When she thought she had bypassed it, it had merely _allowed_ her entry so long as she downloaded its software into her mind, through her eyes.

"I really _am_ Duo's little girl," Uno whispered. Despite the smirk that came onto her lips she found the subject was serious. "I play with fire and I get burned from it."

_And here you thought you were just _born_ amazing and gifted,_ that voice returned. _No, not true. I helped you become what you are. Without me, you may have been an honor student in school but you wouldn't have managed to push all of your past into the history to keep moving on. It would have eaten you away so badly that when you were losing blood your body would shut down, making it impossible for Justin to keep you alive as long as he did. When you're asleep you don't run your body; _I_ had to make sure you stayed alive. _I_ had to keep you strong. All you did was make a mess of things._

Uno swallowed hard as the lecture continued on. _So admit that you live off of me and stand back up. Take a look at the bodies, blow it off as if it were just another mission in this war you call life, and walk away. You did it with Madam Giry when you first woke up here in this magnificent shit-hole, you did it to Marcella when she first insisted you were a witch, and you did it after the opera when Christine cried her eyes out to you. You don't care about anyone but yourself and your missions, thanks to me. So just admit defeat, blow this off, and continue looking for a way back home and _stop_ dwelling about it!_

Uno sniffled, sensing her eyes becoming moist. Biting back the sense of crying, she gathered herself together and stood back up. She wasn't sure what came over her—if it really _was_ the Zero mode inside her mind—but she glanced at the bodies and ignored them.

_Much better,_ the voice returned. _Now leave and if anybody asks, just use the same Governmental speech I taught you when you were younger, the same tone you used at the Government meeting, and even when you first arrived here in Paris, and tell them some made up lie. They'll believe you because you will know more than them and make them look like fools._

Uno nodded her head to the order in her mind and turned away from the two bodies. The stage remained lit and as she exited the back door, she finally gathered herself together, fully and complete. The door clicked behind her and she raised her chin, a grin coming onto her face.

_You're absolutely correct,_ she said mentally to the voice that had suddenly vanished as soon as she returned to her previous state-of-mind. _They wouldn't do an autopsy and find out the cause of death before he fell. They'd see his stabbed back and assume he fell onto the stand out of sheer stupidity. They'll assume he punched the other guy to death then realized what he did wrong, stumble backwards out of fear, and fall to his own demise._

Uno took a deep breath and pushed off the door. She had a long day ahead of her and she couldn't waste a minute preparing for it.

-

Erik heard the loud shriek when he was exiting the rooftop and entering the dark halls. It sounded like the screams he heard when he was a child and his face was used as a side show; it reminded him of his childhood. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head to the side, cocking an ear to listen to the voice. It was high, making it a woman's, and it wasn't far off, which made it a ballerina from the dormitories nearby.

But which dorm to know which ballerina?

He took a few more feet and stopped. There was a rooftop dorm not far from the hallway he stood within. It was up another staircase and would fit about fifteen girls in a tight fit. It was the closest and it had to be that room. Then again, Uno was in that room and Erik realized wherever that girl was there was bound to be some form of argument.

Most likely Marcella had a fright of her life.

Erik grinned and shook his head. That new ballerina was something other than normal. She not only threatened the managers and crew with his name but she knew how to manipulate conversations to her advantage. She was powerful, witty, and smart.

She was much like him.

Erik stalked down the dark narrow hall and headed towards the stage on his final sweep of the building before returning to his lair. He normally didn't sweep the halls but if there was to be an audition throughout tomorrow then he wanted his staff to be well rested and not active the night before. Especially when he found the crew preparing an attack upon the new ballerina; if Uno hadn't of been there to stop them then he would have had no choice but to make his presence known and startle the poor girl and his own stage crew.

But jobs _had_ to be done someway or another.

The halls were empty, bare of any life, and when he stepped into the audience of the auditorium he found two members of the crew sitting on the side of the stage with a small lantern, the light dimmed down until you can only make out half the stage and nothing more. One man was passed out drunk—no doubt about it. He only thanked God that Uno decided to not come to the stage and expect to play the piano or sing; if the two drunks woke up from with their hangovers still in tact then they'd see her as an easy target.

A door closed off in the distant and Erik turned his head to see the said person stepping towards the center stage from the back.

_Damn it,_ he cursed mentally.

He ducked into the shadows and watched her from the distance; he was ready to leap out and protect her if need be it. Her head was hanging and her arms were wrapped around her body. Erik narrowed his eyes and frowned. She wasn't in any type of gown to be seen walking around the building. She was in a night gown! Although the color may be black and she may have a chance at hiding in the shadows from the two drunks, she'd be putting herself in greater danger for showing up half open.

"_Watashi ga attara hairitai_," he heard her mutter. His brows furrowed, wondering what she was saying. It didn't sound English, French, or any other language he knew.

She stepped up to the edge of the stage and looked out into the darkness. Erik, however, stood not even ten feet away from her, shielded by his black cloak and full black mask. If she were to just narrow her eyes and peer closer she could make the outline of his body out. But instead, she sighed and stared down into the pit. Erik watched as she looked to be off in thought. She turned and spotted the drunken stage member sleeping off on the side of the stage with the dim light besides him.

Behind her there was another man stepping onto the stage; Erik only counted the seconds until Uno would sense his presence. But amazingly, she didn't realize until she backed away from the edge of the stage and into him. She craned her neck to see who it was then spun around when she found how drunk he appeared.

"Hey you're that girl who stopped us from having a bit of fun earlier," he slurred out. The ballet rat took a step backwards from him, nearing her dangerous steps towards the edge of the stage. "You caused my men a great deal." Erik noticed the other man had woken up from his slumber and was stepping up to the two; however, behind Uno.

"Don't even think about it," she growled, bringing a fist into the air to express the nature of her warnings.

"You took away our fun," the man who had just entered the gathering said. He had a grip on her shoulders now and held her firmly in place. Erik balled his fists on the sides of his body, ready to interfere within their actions if they actually take this too far.

"Don't come closer," she seethed, "or I'll have to hurt you."

"Such strong words coming from a rangy ballet rat," the man before her spat out.

"Don't forget, I'm a rat and rats bite hard." Erik had to actually stifle a smirk at her sharp reply.

Suddenly, before his very eyes she kicked out and delivered her foot squarely into the man's crotch. Erik's mouth gaped open at the hard kick that sent the crew member stumbling backwards a few feet, doubling over and holding himself against the pain. Uno managed to break free out of the grasp the second member of the stage crew held onto her with and she instantly sent a fist into his gut, causing _him_ to stumble backwards.

Erik actually smirked and folded his arms over his chest. This rat proved to be able to bite rather hard, as it appeared she knew what she was doing. She leaped into the air and brought her foot out to the man's neck. Erik's mouth gaped open when he watched the man stumbled back a few feet until he collapsed off the edge of the stage. Uno cringed when the body crashed on top of all the music stands within the pit and she peered over to see the body in its deceased form.

Suddenly, as if she had sensed movement behind her, Uno spun around to see the man she had kicked regaining his composure.

"You—why did you do that?" He barked out.

Uno stalked towards him with a growl that Erik could hear off in the front row, where he stood watching the fight. "_Don't_ ever assume I'm as weak as everyone else!" She snapped. She charged him and sent the two tumbling down. Erik stepped around the side of the stage until he got a clear view of what she was doing and paused when he found out.

She was straddling his chest!

"People like you don't deserve to remain breathing," Uno had snarled out before she began punching him in the face over and over again.

Erik watched as she delivered massive blows to his face, nose, cheeks, jaw bones, eye sockets, and even his temples. There wasn't one place she missed from the man's _entire_ head! He watched as she struck him several times in the same place, each by a different fist. She switched over and over again, never stopping even to rest, and eventually began to draw out blood.

Finally, when she _did_ stop, Erik knew the man couldn't have survived the impact. His nose was bent to the side at an angle that still wouldn't make sense if it was commonly fractured, he was bleeding from minor cuts along his temples, there was blood seeping out of his nostrils and lips, and his eyes were encased in a thick swollen discoloration.

It appeared Uno didn't stop herself until it was too late.

He stared at the body on the stage in shock, amazed that a simple ballerina had killed a man in less than five minutes—_two_ men to be exact! And the fact that she actually killed him was another shock.

"_Kuso_!" He heard her seethe out. She leaped off the body and backed away to the side of the stage. "What did I do?" She murmured out, stunned by her own actions. "It's as if Zero took over me again."

Erik frowned. _Zero? What on Earth is she talking about?_

"Holy Hell," she breathed out, her lower lip trembling in what he noticed was fear. "I've been possessed by Zero."

_Who is Zero?_ Erik fumed silently. _And if she has been possessed, she would need an exorcist. Perhaps Zero is a demon that she had once read about._ Erik glanced away in deep thought. _Perhaps La Marcella is correct. Perhaps Uno _is_ a witch._

"Not possible," she murmured, breaking him out of his concentration. Erik turned and watched as she wrapped her arms around her body and held herself from shaking. "It's not possible."

She took a few more steps back until she bumped into the wall. "No," she breathed out. Erik noticed she looked as if she were about to faint. Her eyes were glazed over, her lower lip was trembling, and her entire body shook violently, despite the grasp she had over herself.

"It can't be," she added in softly.

Erik swallowed hard, wondering what actions she planned to take now that she had killed two of the stage crew in little then under five minutes. She couldn't expect to leave them there and wait until morning; the managers would be ecstatic about the deaths of two Opera Populaire stage members and instantly they would put the blame on _him_!

"You're not real," her whispered voice broke Erik of worrying thoughts. "You can't be."

He frowned. _Who's not real?_ Erik glanced at the two dead bodies before returning to see how frightened and alarmed she looked. _Perhaps she really is bewitched._

"You're a mind-controlling system created by scientists," that murmured statement truly had Erik stumped. He cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing. Did scientist experiment on her? He knew it was a common thing in England but in America he wasn't sure.

"_Damate_," she whispered before repeating it in a scream. "_Damate_!"

_What on Earth is she saying?_ He fumed silently. _What language is that?_

She looked as if she were breaking down and fixing to cry. Her body apparently weakened out and she collapsed onto the floor, sitting on her knees as she continued to hold shaking self.

"Please," she whispered again, her voice crackling with what sounded to be a sob. "Please just go away."

_Perhaps it is the same demon that had lurked in her mind several nights ago, upon her arrival._

"Oh my God—what have I done?" Erik sighed. He was growing tired of watching this bewitched woman speak to no one but herself and the silence around her. He was ready to make his presence known and frighten her into sanity and he took a step towards the stage but froze when she spoke again.

"I really _am_ Duo's little girl," she whispered. Erik felt taken aback when he saw a smirk on her lips after she stated her words. "I play with fire and I get burned from it."

He stifled a smirk at that and crossed his arms over his chest once more. _I could have warned you against _that, he mused.

Uno sniffled and soon stood back up. Erik took a cautious step back, returning to the shades of the dark auditorium, and watched her every move. Surely she wouldn't just abandon the bodies and return to the dorms. She would have to alert Madam Giry for what happened. Surely the woman would have _some_ ease for Uno's self defense, despite how stunning her moves were to even the phantom.

He watched as she nodded her head and turned away. His mouth dropped and his eyes enlarged when he watched as she casually strolled away from the stage as if nothing had happened. Her hands dropped to the sides and she exited the room. Erik remained standing in the front row, gawking at the ballet rat.

She had just killed _two_ men in little less than five minutes, became frightened about the entire ordeal, then suddenly stood up as if nothing had happened and left the stage. She had treated the entirely thing casually! Erik choked on his next breath and stared down into the pit where the music stand had stabbed the corpse in the back as it fell. Blood was oozing out from the wound and causing a line to trail towards the drainage hole. He turned and stared at the bloodied face of the corpse on the stage, then back to the door where Uno had left.

She had defended herself as if it were a causality, became mildly insane when she learned she had killed two men, then returned to the character the entire Opera Populaire had learned her to be and walked away from the entire incident. Erik recalled hearing about cases when he was younger where a person would be living two lives at once and at any time could switch around and not know it; it was called Split Personality.

_But she doesn't have Split Personality_, he berated himself. _She knew what she was doing but couldn't stop herself. She must truly be bewitched._

He leaped onto the stage and stepped up to the body for a closer inspection. Even though the two corpses were not created in _his_ fashion he knew the managers would immediately link it to him.

_Or…_Erik frowned and turned to glanced down into the pit, noticing how the body had fallen. Slowly, pieces of the puzzle connected within his mind and he found he was smirking when the picture came clear into view. He glanced back down at the bloodied face and crossed his arms over his chest.

_Or perhaps the managers will assume that the two men were bickering and when one realized that he had beaten his comrade to death, stumbled backwards and landed in his _own_ fate._

And that was what he assumed Uno would have expected the managers to believe had happened. She had gotten away with murder by making everyone believe they had gotten themselves killed in a measly brawl. They wouldn't question for a second about how it happen once they noticed the music stand sticking in the man's back; they would just assume he fell to his death and not expect Uno Maxwell to have anything to do with it.

Erik smirked. _What an amazingly talented girl._

_

* * *

Remember to review! And check out my Ebay account! Kitty Felone _

Also... remember these words:  
_**"Nature fits all of her children with something to do,  
He who would write and can't write, can surely review." - J. R. Lowell**_


	13. Secret Calculations

**Yeah, so what! This is only 16 pages. So sue me! Gas prices are so much money and yet, I have to drive half way around Houston 2 days a week for classes! Grr... stupid Hurricane, eating away all the cities and oil industries, making our gas prices jump! I saved up money from the summer job to buy things I always wanted and now I have to waste all that on gas! Arg!**

**Okay well, you all wanted this chapter... they meet... (gasps) WHAT WILL HAPPEN WHEN UNO AND ERIK MEET! You find out now... or... do you? (eyes you all wearily)**

* * *

**- Chapter Thirteen -**

The Opera Populaire was bustling with life the following morning. Charline spotted Uno on the high-rise of all the action—the balconies and box seats—watching the whole scene with the authorities take place. Uno didn't see her, she realized; Uno was too busy sitting in Box Five with a serious look on her face. Charline frowned, wondering if Uno had anything to do with the incident the night before.

She noticed as the two managers constantly discussed matters with the policemen and still the bodies of the two deceased stage members have yet to be removed. When Madam Giry stepped onto the stage—Charline behind for a private discussion about the shrieking Marcella the night before—the woman spun around and told Charline to step backstage; Charline did as told but with her American blood flowing through her veins, she was too curious as to what the big deal was. When she snuck back on stage she found Madam Giry kneeling over a body on the center stage and frowning.

After that, the whole opera house was running amuck. Charline gasped and covered her mouth and as Madam Giry commanded, ran to get the managers. Meg soon stepped on next but she didn't know what happened except for soft talking.

What she _did_ make out was, "Did he do this, Maman?"

"No Meg. Erik doesn't work this approach and he is much cleaner."

Charline didn't know what that meant and who this 'Erik' person was but she knew eventually she'd find out. It was in her American blood to get to the bottom of things, whether or not she was an innocent ballet girl.

However, when she returned to the stage with the managers half of the corpse de ballet was standing around, many were cringing and shrieking, and Madam Giry was struggling to get control of everyone. Even Meg tried in vain to warn them away from the scene. Charline stayed behind and off to the side of the stage; she still had a clear view of the man on the platform and when she was off to the side she noticed a second man in the pit.

She knew she would never forget this day in her entire life.

"Do you think it was the phantom?" One of the ballerinas questioned her friends.

"This has to be the work of the ghost," came another voice. "He must have not been pleased with these two."

"But I thought the managers said he had stopped killing."

"I thought we were safe here."

"This is so frightening! What if he comes after us?" At _that_, half the ballet had shrieked and took off at a run.

Charline rolled her eyes. _Half of these girls act as if they haven't seen a murder before._ Coming from New York she was used to crime and a high death rate; after all, not far off from the Metropolis Theater was one of the cities largest gangs.

Charline glanced back up at the box where the dark shadow of Uno was sitting. She frowned, wondering why Uno kept staring at the dead bodies. Had Uno never seen a dead body before? Had she been there when the incident happened? Perhaps she was actually somewhere else and originally thought about going there when it happened. Charline knew Uno had left after Marcella woke everybody up and she had never returned until half the ballet were out of the dorms; Charline only knew because she was fixing up her and Uno's bed.

"I don't suppose this could be him," said one of the mangers. Charline turned and watched them discuss matters with one of the police officers. "I-I mean, he _did_ inform us that his killings would be put to a stop so long as we do as he demands."

"And have you?" The officer countered.

Firmin glanced at Andre with a frown before returning to the cop. "He would have told us if he was being disobeyed."

"Ah-we have kept his salary up—and even sent him a little more for a 'thanks' for helping us rebuild the theater," Andre added in quickly. "We keep Box Five empty at all times and make sure that our staff is in complete control and sober as much as possible to invent things from happening."

"Which apparently didn't happen," the officer barked back. Andre and Firmin frowned at each other before returning to the policeman. "One of my men saw empty whisky bottles by the lamp just a few minutes ago. It appears they were drunk and had brawl."

Andre glanced down with worry. Firmin cleared his throat and held out his hand to the officer. "Do you think the Phantom could have done this?"

"Did he give you any warning?"

"Well—no!" Firmin expressed greatly. "He didn't so I don't see any reason he would have done something like this."

"Which is exactly my point," the cop bit back.

Charline frowned. _What's going on? Why is the policeman defending the phantom of the opera? Did the phantom pay the cop to keep him safe? Does the cop really think the two were drunk and brawled?_

"Don't assume this was the owner's work," the policeman added in. "What I recall he worked with rope and I don't see any rope marks on their bodies."

"Well—"

The officer, again, cut Firmin off. "If you insist the man had done this then he would have a few bruised spots on his body for beating these men."

"Do they have bruises?" Andre asked quizzically.

"They are dead and that's all we are assuming," the copy returned.

He turned away and pointed towards the body on the stage as he continued to discuss the matters at hand with the managers. Charline glanced back up at Uno and inhaled deeply. She needed to talk with Uno and she left the stage to head there. Right as she exited the auditorium the Viscount and his wife stepped into the halls; Christine smiled and Charline returned the greeting, but kept to herself and continued up the stairs.

-

Erik smirked and watched the battle between the chief of police and his two foolhardy managers, pleased that his past payments had paid off. Despite how much Firmin and Andre insisted that the phantom had done the murder, the officer stated it would have been impossible, as it was _not_ his way to kill and he had no reason to kill in the first place.

_It appears my salary to the police proved to work_, he mused through a grin.

A new face joined up the group and Erik wanted badly to kill that man. Raoul de Chagny. No matter how much Erik could stay away from anyone's sight that boy still believes him to be a murderer.

He should have killed him in spite, just to keep him out of his problems.

"I _insist_ that monster be hounded again," Raoul urged on with a fist in the air. "It is apparent that he did not appreciate these two men getting drunk and without warning killed them. There is no telling when or _who_ he will harm next _just_ to get his word across."

"Monsieur de Chagny," the officer cut in, "this doesn't appear to be his style of work."

"That is because he wishes you to not believe it was him!" Raoul fought back. "You know as well as I do that he has killed before and he will keep killing until he gets his way. He has tried to kill me several times, he has threatened to kill Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin _many_ times, and now he has taken the life of these two stage handlers."

The officer sighed heavily and Erik felt the weight of his stress rise up to the rafters above. He growled. What he wouldn't do to stop that boy's pitiful mouth; he would but thoughts of bringing harm and sadness to Christine would kill him.

_And_ she would never forgive him for it, either.

"_Sir_, I beg you to _please_ back away from this crime scene," the officer barked out to Raoul. "For all I know _you_ could have done the murders yourself!"

Raoul gasped, clearly taken aback. Erik had to grin and crossed his arms over his chest.

_The tables have turned_, he mused silently.

"I-I can't believe you would assume such a foolhardy thing!" Raoul proclaimed. "You know he has threatened to harm me many times and nearly done so as well!"

"And I also know you want him dead, captured, or banished from Paris," the policeman countered. "For all I know, you could have done the murder yourself to put the blame on him so he can be hunted for and removed from your worries."

Erik turned to go, his job already proven successful. He no longer needed to stay and supervise the chief's beliefs; the man had already won the argument and there would be a hefty increase in his salary when he returns to the office.

Erik would make sure of it.

-

The dead bodies were a sight for sore eyes to most girls. It was a new thing to an everyday boring lifestyle. Whereas a bundle of ballet rats would dance around in their tiny dresses or the divas would sing until their lung's capabilities, there were police, stunned managers, an enraged patron, and corpses. It was a different thing to wake up to, a new command of thought compared to normal life.

For everyone except Uno Maxwell.

The dried blood on the two deceased men was like reminders of the past lived not long ago. In place of hustling faces and busy bodies were men standing around, discussing who could have done the said problem. In place of police cars and news broadcast cameras outside the building were police carriages and a plenty of people unaware to the occurrence of the opera's status. Where chalk lines were drawn on the grounds of the corpses were dried blood stains.

The people who were supposed to be coroners were actually just common folk, wondering what all the attention was for and the workers of the theater, not counting the police.

_Bullshit_, Uno thought to herself. _Just move the bodies and carry on with life. It's as if nobody has seen a dead body before._

"Uno?" A soft and gentle voice called out. Uno ignored it, knowing it was only Charline, and kept her eyes glued to the stage before her. Charline stepped up to the chair besides her and took a seat. Frowning, she turned and saw the blank expression on the young girl's face.

"What's the matter?" She asked sweetly.

"This is pathetic," Uno spat. "They won't touch the bodies and just clear them away from the scene."

Charline turned to the stage. "They are discussing what happened."

Uno snorted. "They need to let this theater carry on with life. Oh so what—two men died, big whoop."

Charline gave a weak smile and shrugged her shoulders. "They are sometimes not allowed to until they figure out what happened. If they move the bodies sometimes the stories around them could change and they wouldn't remember what the scene looked like before to conduct truth upon their theories," Charline explained. Uno frowned and glanced over at the young American.

"How do you know?"

"There was much crime in New York and almost everyday my father would read about murder in the tabloids. Sometimes, if I walked long enough at night with him, there would be a murder close by that he would explain things to me."

"You father taught you death?" Uno spat out in shock. Charline shook her head.

"No he did not teach me death but he taught me about it. He wasn't afraid of the gangs in New York—I never understood why, to be honest. But he told me that if I show fear then I would become a victim."

"A load of shit to me," Uno scoffed out without censoring her words first. "You can still get raped."

"My mother said the same thing," Charline added in. Uno turned back to the stage and sighed.

"This is just horrible. I was expecting to audition for a greater part today and kick Marcella out of her spotlight for good."

Charline giggled. "You still have more time to practice, Uno."

"I don't need to practice," she spat back.

"Well," Charline sulked, "what are you going to do today? Meg had told me Madam Giry canceled auditions until at _least_ Wednesday."

Uno nodded as she absorbed all the information. She pushed out of the chair and stretched her limbs. However, she kept her eyes glued to the stage.

"I'm going to walk the streets of Paris," she returned. "Better than be stuck in here I'd rather learn about France."

"Mind if I join you?" Charline asked softly. "I am new here as well."

"No," Uno said sharply, finally tearing her gaze away from the stage life before her. She turned and headed towards the door. "I don't want anybody to tie me down."

And with saying that she left the box to Charline and made her way down stairs towards the front, her purse clutched tightly in her hands. Normally she would leave it behind but with Marcella by her every step, watching and waiting for something to happen she had to keep hold of it. There was no way for Uno to hide it when the prying eyes of the horrible girl would always be astray to find it.

And besides, what if she found something to buy when she was out in the city? She didn't want anybody with her for reasons she kept to herself. When Madam Giry had insisted they stay together Uno acted as if she hadn't heard and left the new girl alone. She was American by fifty percent as Charline was one-hundred; if Uno could survive on her own due to that American blood, Charline would be perfectly fine.

_And I don't need friends,_ her mind added in mentally. Uno ignored the pleasant greeting Christine sent her way when she passed by Meg and the other ballet members. She stepped out into the world and closed the doors behind her.

_Friends only get in the way. The more friends, the more obstacles, the more chances of getting hurt. Without friends there's no body to stop me from doing what needs to be done. Without friends there no body to be used against me by my enemies. Without friends I don't have to worry about hurting them and being stranded._

As she did when she was captured.

"Ah—Mademoiselle!" A young gentleman with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes chased up to Uno with a pink carnation in hand. Uno paused and knitted her brows together, frowning at the sudden gift.

"You were spectacular the other night," he gleamed. Uno slowly nodded his head, wondering if he's heard about the murder at the theater. "I must say you showed us who should be the prima ballerina in place of La Marcella."

"Yes," Uno murmured out slowly, "yes I did—I know."

"Please," he pushed the flower into her hands and wrapped her fingers around its stem. With a pat on her wrists and a smile in his eyes to match the smile on his lips, he stared up at her. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Verafaunte."

_Count? Good lord I've attracted a rich audience!_

Uno stifled a smile and curtsied properly, stunning the man with her graceful mannerism towards the higher class.

"Uno Maxwell," she delivered back with a much sweeter voice than what she delivered to the common rich folk of Parisian society.

"My—you have mannerism," he grinned. "Are you, by any chance, or royal background?"

Uno returned to her full height and stared him in the eyes, sensing the knowledge that a relationship with a man her height or shorter would be Hell.

"No," she replied generously. "No I am just an ordinary American girl."

"American?" He gasped. "You seem to be more organized than _that_! How do you go by saying you are American when you treat royalty correctly?"

Her smile turned into a forced grin, fake with all its aggressive charm. "Please sir, if you don't mind. I have some things I need to do."

He bowed his head. "Forgive me for driving you away from it all. Might I ask for your hand for a date? Perchance, tonight for dinner?"

"Forgive me sir," she breathed out, "but I really must reject. Although I am from America my family would not appreciate my choice of dating a Parisian."

He frowned. "Not even a _count_? Surely they will understand after you tell them Count Verafaunte had offered his hand to you."

Uno's fake grin turned into a pitiful smile of the sorts. "I am sorry sir," she returned, "but although I am not of any class in America, I am considered a princess and a future empress in Tokyo and my country would not appreciate settling for a class lower than my own."

"Empress?" He gasped. "If you are to be empress then how are you a ballerina?"

Her smile was genuine now. "Why, to learn about the people, of course." Uno covered her mouth to giggle at his foolish mind to believe such a lie. She had the intelligence to become a real empress and where she came from she was the ruler of mankind so she had the Governmental and political foundation to carry through with the said job.

"But," he glanced off in wonder, "where is this, Tokyo? A town in America, I assume. But empress—that would make you the ruler of the country!"

Uno nodded. "Although I am of American heritage, I am only half American. My father was a Duke in America whereas my mother was Empress of Tokyo."

"You are from a huge family," he murmured off to the side. Suddenly frowning, he turned back to her and released her hand. "Where is this Tokyo, I wonder?"

"Japan," Uno replied delicately, careful of how much information she released. She knew these people didn't know Asians but who's to say they won't eventually meet one? "Tokyo is a nation within the country—_continent_—of Japan."

The man frowned and the look on his face told Uno that he didn't know where the land was. "Japan?"

"A quarter around the Earth from where we are now, sir. My parents wanted me to be educated in the people of the world and that is why I am a ballerina here, at the Opera Populaire," she told him. "When I become twenty and one, I will assume my rightful place as empress with the emperor, as he awaits my return already."

The man smiled. "You sound to be a wonderful woman, Uno. Your eyes are sparkling every time you speak, your smile melts my heart, and your beautiful hair reflects the rays of the sun as it is swept up in that braid."

Uno smiled although on the inside she wanted to throw up. The man's talk was sickening, to say the least. "You're too kind," she replied kindly. "The braid is part of my heritage. Being empress, I must have some ingredient to my kingdom for whenever I return. I can't simply cut it off and expect the people to appreciate that I have changed to better fit a foreign society."

"I couldn't agree with you more," he said. "But perhaps it is alright for you to remain in my heart as a good friend? Should your country ever need alliance, you will always have Count Verafaunte on your list of names."

"You're too kind," Uno returned. "I bid you adieu, Count Verefaunte. _Sayonara_."

"And to you, Empress Maxwell." He kissed her hand then let her go.

Uno headed towards the streets, careful to keep up her elegant walk and swaying of her hips to further entice the count of her life. But the moment she turned the corner of the next street over, she tossed the flower into a trash bin and wiped her charming smile off her face.

_I can't believe that rat fell for it_, she mused. _He believed every piece of bullshit that I gave him! What if I _had_ fallen for his tricks of gentleman manners? What if I _had_ accepted his hand? He would later dislike me if I cease to dance swiftly and gracefully and if he ever found out about the murders and my connection to them, he'd deliver me to the authorities!_ Uno shook her head. _No fucking way—that jackass is only looking to get laid; _not_ a romantic wife._

She continued walking a few more feet until she was surrounded by a bunch of Parisian faces before glancing down at what she held securely in her hand. Although Count Verafaunte had given her a pink carnation he had also given her his gold watchband—little did he know.

Uno lifted it up to her face to inspect the metal and smirked. The damned fool was walking around with a thick chuck of solid gold and fell for one of the easiest pocket-pick tricks in the world. The band itself would cost enough to boost her cash flow rather high and the watch would add in a couple extra notes to the total, as well.

She stuffed the stolen item into her purse and began strolling down the street in search of a jeweler. If she was caught with the item red handed she would be in trouble. But if the jeweler had it and she did not she would be safe. When she crossed a small street and entered a new section of the path she was taking, she spotted a large window to her left that expressed emeralds and diamonds.

With a grin, Uno wrapped her braid up in her hand, coiled it around her head, and tied it into a bun. Most of the faces would only look at her as a whole and after seeing a woman with a bun sell an expensive watch they would assume her to have only a bun. But the moment she was free she would return her braid to its length and walk on as if she had never even seen the stolen watch before.

And since the French in this day of time were stupid enough, it was too easy an opportunity to pass up.

-

Erik leaned back from the organ and closed his eyes. The notes of his latest composition were imprinted within his mind and every time he closed his eyes he could see the music in his face. Rubbing his eyes didn't help; in fact, it only put black ink on his skin. He needed a break.

Erik sighed and placed the quill on the parchment. He turned and glanced at the covered mirror besides him and with a frown, glanced down to the stone floor. He didn't need a nap, as he had slept earlier when he returned from the police department. He didn't need to busy himself with eavesdropping on the ballet rats. He didn't need fresh air from the rooftop.

Instead, what he needed was a short vacation away from the building, entirely.

He took a deep breath and stood up from the organ bench. Turning to glance at the grandfather clock by his desk, he found it was late into the night, a perfect time to go riding on Hercules. His poor horse hadn't been ridden in weeks and was due for another midnight stroll. Although the stable boys took care of the mare and fed him Erik knew the horse also needed a break from the same stall.

_The poor thing's probably ready to break out of there, anyways._

He wrapped his cloak around his body tightly and stepped up to his desk. His full black mask was slightly askew and after fitting it back onto his face he turned and stepped into his boat. The walk to the stables would be a long journey for normal people but thanks to his ingenious architecture designs when he built the theater he was capable of digging tunnels and hallways to lead where he wish to go.

So it would only take him a matter of five minutes to reach the stables.

Erik gasped when he stepped inside the stable and found his stall was bare, his horse empty, and the saddle removed. He spun around and found the stable boy fast asleep on the makeshift hay bed in a corner and after grasping the boys shoulders Erik hefted him up into the air and slammed him against the wall. The boy shrieked when he saw the familiar green eyes piercing his own.

"Where's my horse?" Erik snarled.

The boy stuttered. "He's right—" His statement died on his lips when he noticed the stall empty. "I swear he was there when I went to sleep!"

"You lie!" Erik slammed his frail body up against the wall again, the violent force shaking the wooden stable wall in its quake. "My horse!"

"I-I told you I don't know," the boy replied with a frightened scream. "Hercules was there earlier!"

"Then you weren't doing your job and tending to the mare's needs! Somebody stole away while you were taking your rest," Erik snarled. "Or did you just lie to me and steal him away yourself?"

Green eyes pried deeply into gold ones and Erik felt shaky breath breathe against his face. The boy struggled to kick free but got no where as the phantom had him lifted up off the ground a good foot in the air. He whimpered.

"P-Please Monsieur," he choked out, "I don't know a thing!"

Erik's eyes narrowed. "Apparently you don't." He flung the boy out of the stable and turned to glare him. The boy scurried backwards as the phantom towered above him and stalked towards him.

"You are fired," Erik growled. "Leave now or I will kill you for trespassing." He pushed his cloak to the side to show the lasso wrapped securely against his hip, hinting at the seriousness of his words.

The boy gathered himself up and took off running as fast as he could. Erik stepped into the dark and watched after him to make certain the boy didn't duck away into the corners or shadows and try to sneak back in. He would be ready to attack if the boy was foolish enough to think he could continue working here. Erik only had to send notice to the managers and he would be removed for good.

Which he turned to do.

_After I deliver the note I will wait until the thief returns my horse before I make my presence known and demand my answers._

-

By the time he heard hooves Erik was well ready to admit defeat and believe his horse to be fully stolen. It was very late at night—or rather, extremely early in the morning—and he was tired enough to return to bed. But when the hooves began pounding outside the stable he knew the thief had returned.

Erik ducked back into the shadows of the stable where his stolen horse belonged and waited. He peered through a crack in the wooden stable walls and tried to catch a glimpse of the man in charged of stealing his horse but all he could make out were dark shadows. Hercules, with the thief, was standing outside the door to the stable; Erik assumed he was waiting to see if anything stirred due to the sudden noise.

Suddenly, the man kicked the mare back into a gallop and charged down the hall. Erik crouched and stayed in the corner, watching as the thief leaped the horse directly over the stage doors. His eyes widened despite the knitting of his brows, as he watched the thief circle the horse around until the remaining energy was used up.

_This man knows how to maneuver a mare,_ Erik assumed. My_ mare, to be exact. Hercules should have kicked the trespasser off his back as I have taught him to against strangers._

The man leaped down off the animal's back and patted the mare's neck. He heard soft muttering coming from the thief's presence but it wasn't enough to make out the words or sound of the voice. Erik narrowed his eyes, watching as the thin fingers weaved into the mares main and brush the hairs it stroked. He stood up at his full height, watching the man pet the animal that was stolen only recently, and narrowed his eyes.

He couldn't make anything out about this character but Erik would eventually learn all he needed too. If the thief had managed to get over the gate without unlocking and relocking the padlock then apparently Erik had to work better at keeping his things kept specifically for himself. He pushed out of the dark corner and noticed the character's form; brown breeches, white shirt, and an exceptionally long braid.

He paused and frowned. The man was dressed in the extra clothes the stable boy had possession of but there was only _one_ person who he knew had a braid and one as long as this!

_Uno Maxwell, the ballet rat?_ Erik thought puzzled. _It can't be!_

Before he gave another thought, Erik reached out and grasped the figure's shoulder, ready to whip him—or her—to the side and demand answers.

But something happened and he was found lying on his back in less than a second.

When Erik whipped the character around the form moved so fast that he had trouble noticing it. Dark eyes filled with a violent rage glared into his own green orbs, a hand wrapped itself around his wrist, and the strength used in the arm that had flipped him in the air was inhuman! Erik landed with a _thud_ on his back and found himself gazing up into the eyes of the said ballet rat—the one who had killed the two drunks the night before—Uno Maxwell.

"_Kuso_," she seethed out before spinning and fleeing. Erik shook his head of the dizzy spots he saw before his eyes and watched as she ran up to the gate, gripped the tops of it with her hands, and flung into the air in a handstand. She landed on the other side and took off at a run that by the time he got to his feet she was already gone.

_How on Earth?_ He frowned in shock. He turned back to Hercules then back to the hall, still amazed at the girl's incredible strength to flip him without a struggle and flip herself in the air over the gate, and _then_ continue running at top speed.

_She needs to tell me some answers the next time she goes off on a midnight stroll with _my_ horse!_

-

Uno smiled and patted the mare's thick neck, pleased with the horse's obedience to not leave her stranded as she bathed beneath the waterfall. All the horse did was sip at the water of the lake and eat some grass. When she was ready to return she donned the boyish clothing once more and returned to the stalls.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and out of sheer instinct, Uno wrapped her fingers around the wrist, spun around, swept the legs out from under the intruder, and tossed him in the air in a spin. He landed squarely on his back with a heavy _thud_ and gazed up at her in shock. Uno returned his stare with her own serious gaze and growled.

"_Kuso_," she seethed out. She had just overstepped her boundaries _again_ by attacking without thinking first. She needed to begin taking notice of her surroundings and remember that Paris in the eighteen hundreds wasn't the United Earth Sphere Alliance.

At least she didn't finish the move by stabbing him in the chest with her hand or stepping on his neck and breaking it!

She stared into the stunned eyes of a deep green and backed away. There was a black mask covering the full of his face from the base of his nose and up to his forehead, a black cloak covered black clothing, and his mouth parted as if to speak.

Uno spun and ran towards the gate before the man could stop her and gripped the lining. She hoisted herself up into the air, flipping over the gate, and as soon as she landed on the other side, took off on a fast run. On the way out she grabbed her dress that she had wrapped up into a bundle of blue velvet, the lantern she had discarded, and escaped the stable, hopefully before the man got to his feet.

_That was _too_ close for comfort,_ she berated. _Not only could I have killed him but I came close to being caught! I'd have to watch my back more thoroughly next time._

Uno slowed down once she entered the building and headed towards the back halls of the stage. She needed to change before she returned to the dorms and incase that man was following her, she didn't want to be caught. She had killed two already; she didn't want to kill again unless need be it.

And unfortunately, if that man tried to attack her again, she wouldn't be able to stop herself.

Uno sighed when she redressed herself in the navy blue dress and tossed the stable boy clothes into a pile beneath a desk. She picked up the lantern and glanced at her surroundings before returning to the kitchen. She didn't have a clue as to who that man was and why he wore a mask, but if he had startled her in silence then he was trying to keep his presence a secret.

_Which means he doesn't belong on the theater grounds_, she totaled up. _He tried to attack me and hid his face—that man's got something coming if he tries it again._

And with Shinigami as her witness, Uno would give him a fate worse than the two drunks she had recently dealt with.

* * *

**A heard a few of you out there liked that poem indicating to review... well... good. Then review! XP Hey, you all wanted them to fight! Hehehe**


	14. Alone In Life

**This chapter will prove to be quite a heartbreaking one, so be forewarned. The song posted in here is called 'Hello' and is sung by Evanescence. To those who have read DC1 and remember the flashback, you notice there is more added in. I have decided to add in what I should have added in when I originally wrote the first story SO many years ago! (actually... about 4-5 years ago -weak smile-).**

**Enjoy! 16 pages again but oh well.**

**BTW: As many of you made notice, I know nothing about horses--I just love riding them. I didn't know a 'mare' is a female horse. But now I know and I'll try not to make the same mistake.**

* * *

**- Chapter Fourteen -**

"Meg Giry," Madam Giry called out, "you are next." Uno watched as the older ballerina scurried onto the stage in a rush, frantic to attend the audition. Music began playing and she began dancing to one of the duets for the prima ballerina parts. Uno had yet to be called.

The lithe form of Meg floated around the stage like a butterfly released from its cage. She twirled and leapt gracefully in the air and Uno noticed her eyes were closed for about half of the dance.

_She's quite the dancer,_ Uno noted. The seat besides her was suddenly captured and turning to notice who it was Uno found Charline had joined her.

"Hello Uno," Charline smiled. "Have you been called yet?"

"No," Uno grumbled back. She turned back to the stage and watched as Meg did a swan leap into the air.

"Neither have I. I am hoping my list of references will help me gain a good part."

Uno snorted. "I doubt they would care unless you're royalty."

Charline frowned and glanced over at the odder American seated besides her. "But then I wouldn't be here if I were royalty."

"Precisely," Uno returned.

"I don't understand."

Uno sighed. "Apparently not."

"Would you mind explaining yourself?"

"No."

Charline's shoulders sagged and she returned to the stage where Meg bowed her appreciation to her received part. As usual, she gave the managers her fleeting smile and paced off the stage. Uno closed her eyes and expected the next few names to skip over hers. She expected La Marcella to received prima ballerina—again—and the wrenches friends to cheer their ringleader on.

"Uno Maxwell," Madam Giry called out from the center stage.

Uno did _not_ expect that!

"Go on Uno," Charline shook Uno on the shoulder with glee. "Good luck up there!"

Uno groaned and pushed out of the chair. She stole a quick glance around at the few attendees who were watching the auditions much like herself and Charline; La Marcella and her circle of whores were several rows away, waiting for something to happen.

Uno stepped up to the stage and practically dragged her feet up each step until she reached the ballet mistress. She could make out several rude comments regarding her posture with Marcella's voice attached to them and rolling her eyes, she let it slide. When she danced she would show them how good she was—and she didn't plan on copying what she did several weeks back.

"Uno," the older woman bowed her head.

"Ma'am," Uno bowed her head back.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell," Andre cut in. Uno turned to glance at him with her causal, laid back expression. "Can you sing?"

That stopped her mindset of being casual and laid back! Her brows knitted together and frowning, she turned completely to face the managers standing behind the pit. Monsieur Reyer was staring up at her, as well. Uno turned and saw Madam Giry frowning intensely.

"I-I beg your," Uno paused and returned to the managers, "pardon?"

"Can you sing?" Andre repeated himself.

"Sing?" Uno said the word and it left a bad taste in her mouth. "W-why do you ask, Monsieur's?"

_Get a hold of yourself!_ She berated herself. _They are probably wondering that about everybody, to see who will be in the choir rather than the ballet! They didn't _have_ to ask Meg because they knew she had always been the ballet mistress's daughter._

"Well," Andre glanced down at a note in his hands, "we have been told to have you audition for a soprano's part."

Uno's lips parted and her throat became dry. Who on Earth could have ever heard her sing? She closed her mouth immediately and swallowed hard. From the corners of her eyes she could see Marcella giggling and pointing in her direction.

"I—who sent you the note about my ability to sing?" Uno returned.

"So it is true, then?" Firmin cut in.

Uno shook her head. "No Monsieurs," she lied. "I cannot sing. Who insisted that I audition for that part?"

Andre and Firmin exchanged worried glances before Firmin spoke up. "Usually when the Opera Ghost makes an announcement he is correct. Are you _certain_ you cannot sing?" Afraid of her own voice, Uno kept her lips pressed together and nodded her head.

"How about an audition anyways?" Andre added in. "Perhaps he felt you have great potential if given the chance to shine?"

"Agreed," Firmin nodded. "Uno? Please, a scale if you may?"

"A scale?" Uno choked out.

It wasn't as if she were really terrified of singing out a scale to the masses at that moment, but rather that she never knew scales to begin with. When she was little she had always sang on her own _without_ a scale to teach her the different chords.

"I shall play a few notes on the piano and I would like you to match your voice to it," Monsieur Reyer explained. Uno glanced at him in mild fright, afraid of what was going to happen if she let slip her actual ability. She could hear Marcella teasing her from the distance and if Uno were to hide the truth the wrench would have more to taunt about and if she showed her true self Marcella would shut up—but still think of Uno as a witch.

And if Uno showed her true self, she would be repeating a history that she would hate herself to repeat.

"I-okay," Uno replied uneasily.

The conductor nodded his head and began pressing a few keys in accordance to the scale. Uno cleared her throat and released a scratchy note, careful to release the power of her lungs. The note rose and her voice rose, but so did her throaty croak. When finally the scale ended she succeeded in achieving her goal; the managers were frowning at one another and reviewing the note. Monsieur Reyer was frowning up at Madam Giry, and Madam Giry was staring at Uno with worry.

"Uno," she whispered. Uno turned to the woman with her previous worried look. "Are you certain you cannot sing?"

"Didn't you just hear?" Uno fought back. "I _can't_ sing. I would have just then if I could."

"Why would he state that her voice is higher than Daae's, more powerful than La Carlotta's, and has the ability to Apollo?" Andre murmured. Uno glanced over to the managers, her brows knitted together.

"Who sent the letter, may I ask again?"

"The Opera Ghost," Firmin glanced up at her in shock. "But I don't see why he would insist you sing for the opera."

Uno's eyes narrowed. _The Opera Ghost, is it? I shall find out myself, why he insists I sing._

-

Erik's fists were balling at his sides and his jaw was locked in place. His teeth ground together and his upper lip was flared, indicating his fierce rage. He had sent specific instructions to set Uno Maxwell into an audition for soprano's lead and the ballet rat had _tricked_ everyone into remaining a ballerina! He was _certain_ he had heard her sing that night and he recalled hearing her ability to go higher or lower than Christine, become more powerful than Carlotta, and her ability combined matched his own, as if she were born with the knowledge to sing!

_How _dare_ that wrench turn my words into lies,_ Erik seethed out mentally. _She has turned my words into lies, she has ignored my threats and warnings, and she has even stolen my horse on several occasions. I _will_ get my revenge for this unaccountable act of foolishness and this silly girl will learn to never again repeat her actions in making the phantom appear wrong._

-

Charline chased Uno down the hall and reached out to grasp the ballerina's wrist. Uno instantly spun around and locked her own fingers in a death grip on Charline's wrist, snarled, and glared the figure. Charline cringed and shied back as much as she could but Uno's grip held on sturdy. Then, as if Uno realized what she was doing, she released her hold and hung her head.

"Don't do that again, Charline," Uno warned. "I could have killed you if I didn't stop myself in time." Charline nodded, terrified to speak. Uno raised her head. "What do you want?"

"To congratulate you."

Uno frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You and Meg are the prima ballerinas for the duet," Charline smiled weakly. "I thought to congratulate you on your triumphs. Although I wonder why they all thought you could sing when you clearly showed them you couldn't."

"Yeah," Uno turned and stared at the ground. "Yeah I wonder that myself."

Charline smiled and sighed. "You're a wonderful dancer, Uno. I wish I had your talent."

Uno nodded. "I know," she murmured. And how true that was. The last person she knew that acted much the same way wished she had Uno's talent and brains.

"So what are you planning on doing now?" Charline asked sweetly. "I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me for some dinner at a local diner. It is rather late already and I figured we could talk and get to know one another."

Uno sighed and glanced at the girl before her. "Charline," Uno breathed out in a rush. The girl's smile slowly transformed into a frown. "Look—we're two different types of people, alright? You're an open girl and I'm closed off. You would rather be with Meg and the other ballerinas while I would rather be alone."

"But you haven't eaten anything _all_ day," Charline fought back. "Surely you must be famished!"

"Not in the least," Uno grumbled back before turning away. "Just leave me alone. You'll be better off as friends with Meg."

Charline frowned. "But… I wanted to be friends with you," she mumbled, watching the lonely ballerina dissolve into the shadows. After Uno disappeared entirely she bit her lower lip and knitted her brows together.

_Something's going on with you, Uno,_ Charline noted. _And I'm going to find out _what_ that something is whether or _not_ you will appreciate it._

-

Uno shut the door to the roof behind her and sighed. The sky was blackened and littered with stars. The street lamps were bright and filtering the shadows with light up to the rooftop. The roof floors had light coming through the small dome and the corners of the wall, lighting up the small platform for which Uno took shelter.

She took a deep breath and released it just the same. Her conscious was eating away her mind's work. She knew Charline meant good and was willing to follow her around but Uno didn't need a crutch by her side at all times. The last person who was there died because of her.

That last person was almost exactly like Charline.

Uno hung her head and groaned. She reached the edge of the rooftop and closed her eyes as the image of Theresa's shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes with a charming smile ate away what little energy Uno had remaining in her chest, the little love she felt locked up in her heart.

That little love grew and the barrier to keep it from bleeding began to break down again.

"Uh God," Uno groaned.

She pushed away from the side of the ledge and turned her back on the world. Eyes clenching tightly, Uno felt the first stab of hurt pierce her heart before she had the time to grasp her chest with her hands. Her legs let out from beneath her and sent her tumbling to the ground, landing upon her weak knees.

Uno wrapped her arms around her body tightly, feeling the harsh beats of her heat pounding against her rib cage. The painful stabbing multiplied and the agonizing torture became a gut wrenching pull away from her perfected self, dragging her mind down into the guilt-stricken sorrow. Her eyes became moist as tears started to flood within her face, blurring her vision. She blinked them away but instead of leaving for good, they only fell and caused a slippery trail down her cheeks.

"Theresa," Uno choked out on her next breath of air. "Why are you torturing me?" Her voice broke and she had to whisper the rest of her devastated plea. "Why can't you just leave me for good?"

Flashes of the past streaked across her encased orbs, bringing the years of pain that she had managed to block out; the years of training for the war, of sorrow and sadness brought on by the moment where her life was dramatically turned into what Duo did not want her to live. It was the life of war and bloodshed that Duo made her prepare for on the outside while on the inside he cried for her to live a happy, freedom-filled life, away from destruction, away from hate, and away from death. She was born from a war to only die in a war.

Unfortunately, she never died.

Never.

"Theresa," Uno whispered, giving into the aching torment of the past resurfacing.

_The weather was fair; mild rain showers may occur later on in the day and sunny with cool winds until then. It was unusually beautiful for the time of the year. The sky was a bright blue with few clouds, the air around was thick with warm heat, and the atmosphere was just cheerful._

_Uno and Theresa were walking along the long road that stretched on from the outskirts of the city to Winner Mansion. Theresa had arrived earlier that morning and, with the ability to wake her best friend up, started one of the biggest pillow fights the two have ever had. It was so large that Duo had to break up the fight._

_And _he_ wound up getting attacked with four pillows!_

_While Uno dressed for school Theresa was talking with Duo in the living room about the snobby girls in the classroom then Uno came downstairs with her hair unbraided. She was grumbling about not being able to detangle it and despite Theresa's attempts at hiding her giggle, Uno had threatened to lock Theresa in the lockers. Duo had to brush out her hair and braid it, a task he had been doing on his own since he was little._

_Uno hung her head and closed her eyes. Her braid dangled from behind the nape of her neck. Stuffing her fists into her pockets, she sighed and went over her plans for the day. She knew there was a test they needed to take and, as usual, was prepared for it. She knew she had a race meet with Ricky in a few weeks and required after school practice. The talent show was coming soon and she and Theresa needed to continue practicing in the Recording Studio of the mansion._

_Theresa was humming a random tune and glancing around at the fields surrounding their long walk. Generally the walk was a good hour into the city and the school was on the side, which meant another thirty minute walk. Uno didn't mind the exercise but it was Theresa she was worried for; the poor girl may be older by a year but her body is so out of shape she can't even compete against Uno in a race of three yards!_

_Theresa frowned, her arms still wrapped behind her neck as her hands held onto her briefcase backpack. She glanced over towards her right then to her left, noticing the span of emptiness and few trees off in the distance. Ahead of them, the narrow two-lane street curved out into a four-lane street with a medium—the entrance to Quatre's mansion and Winner City. The front of the medium stood elegantly trimmed with a massive oak tree and several decorated bushes. There were many times where Theresa wanted to hide behind the bushes and scare Uno on her daily jog with Heero but she never found the guts, terrified that Heero's old war-self would withdraw a gun and fire without thought._

"_Uno?" Theresa perked up. Uno's eyes opened and she blinked away the sudden brightness of the day before glancing behind her._

"Nani_?"_

"_Does Quatre own half the city?"_

_Uno turned around and frowned. "Huh?"_

"_Winner City," Theresa repeated herself, "does he own half of it?"_

"_He owns _all_ of it," Uno corrected her. "Quatre _Winner_?" Uno giggled at Theresa's stunned expression. "That's why he's so powerful, Theresa. He owns several cities on Earth, several colonies in space, natural resource satellites, and _way_ more."_

_Theresa's brows knitted in confusion. "What _are_ natural resource satellites compared to colonies?"_

"_Well," Uno took a deep breath and turned away in thought, "from what Heero told me, they're where we get half of our resources for space. They're military colonies created on meteors. Pretty much, military bases, I guess you could say. I learned that in White Fang, Operation Meteor was to be followed through and MO Three was to be dropped onto Earth. But then the rules changed and a colony was going to be dropped."_

_Theresa's mouth dropped and her eyes got huge. "Are you serious?"_

_Uno nodded and continued to explain. "Heero had to stop it. He was the only one capable."_

"_How?"_

_Uno shrugged and stared up into the sky. "Wing Zero," she explained. "The Gundam, Wing Zero, the machine he piloted in the wars." She returned to stare into her friend's gaping face. "He once told me that he wasn't sure if he could survive the battle and Zero had to help."_

"_Zero? How could a computer system help keep somebody alive?" _

_Uno shrugged her shoulders. "I've countered Zero when I hacked into his laptop. It's a mind controlling computer but if it knows you can handle things on your own it'll leave you be. Zero had to help keep Heero stationed as he fired the beam cannon and shot down the colony as it tore through the planet's atmosphere. He couldn't fly the Gundam because he was beneath it and had to aim up at it."_

_Theresa gawked. "So he allowed the machine to fall while he shot down the colony? Oh my God Uno," she shouted. "Your family rocks!"_

_Uno giggled. "Yeah well, I hope to follow in his footsteps one day."_

_That made Theresa frown. "Why?"_

"_To pilot a Gundam," Uno turned her back to her friend and continued walking. "I don't really _want_ to fight, though. But what I've learned about their ability to fly sounds like fun. The speed, the power—I think it'll be fun. Quatre still has to take me to a colony. He said when I turn sixteen he'll let me stay for a month."_

"_That is _so_ cool!" Theresa beamed. She followed behind Uno once again. "You _so_ have to take pictures. I want to see the stars; I want to see the other planets. You're so lucky."_

_Uno shrugged her shoulders. "Trowa told me there's a large military base on Venus. He said it's been shut down for generations but still used for storage."_

"_Cool. And Quatre owns all of this?"_

_Uno nodded as she closed her eyes and hung her head. "And Relena owns the other half. Don't forget, Relena is the Vice Foreign Minister _and_ the Queen of the world and colonies—she's the ruler of all mankind."_

"_Wow," Theresa slurred out. "So if they were to die—since Relena has no other relatives alive and Quatre has nothing but you as a child, even though you're Duo's instead—you would get the city and all the land, school, mansions, colonies, the planet, and everything else they own?"_

"_Including the head of official Government seats, the titles, the royalty's," Uno added in with a murmur. She nodded her head. "Yep. I'd get it all."_

"_Oh wow! I'm glad I'm your best friend," Theresa beamed. Uno frowned when she noticed her shoe laces were untied. She snorted at Theresa's comment and knelt over to tie her laces back up._

"_Please," Uno scoffed out. "You're my _only_ friend… besides Ricky."_

_She sighed and finished tying her shoes. Out of no where, Uno heard what sounded like a rock hit the ground. Brows knitting together, she turned away from her shoes and glanced at the ground. There were no rocks located _anywhere_ near her but she was certain she heard a _thud_. Uno stared up into the sky and winced against the bright, sunny rays shining down the morning light._

_There was nothing around and she knew she heard something._

"_Hey Theresa," Uno paused and glanced back at the ground. "Did you hear that just now? It sounded like a rock hit the road but there's nothing around."_

_She glanced at the bushes on the medium ahead of them and frowned, wondering why it was awfully quiet. Theresa had stopped humming, birds were not chirping, the wind had stopped blowing; she couldn't even _hear_ Theresa to begin with!_

"_Theresa?" Uno tried again. She turned back to glance behind her and found Theresa was lying on the grass, sprawled out like a rag doll left behind._

"_Theresa?" Uno croaked out._

_A few feet away from Theresa's body lay her backpack. Her arms and legs were sprawled out as if she had been pushed down and fell without a struggle. Uno swallowed hard and turned around fully to face her friend, though she remained crouching on the ground._

_She heard nothing coming from her friend and scooting closer Uno feared she never would again._

"_Theresa?" She tried again; however, softer this time. Her best friend's body appeared slack and if not for the current condition Uno would almost think she was sleeping._

_But she knew without a second thought that Theresa was dead._

_Uno crawled over to the side of her friend's body and grasped Theresa's shoulder. She began to shake her friend violently, commanding her to wake up, but stopped in fear when she spotted the gaping hole between the eyes._

"_A bullet hole?" Uno murmured. She was truly puzzled now and immediately fear struck Uno like never before. It struck her with an icy stab and she realized the formation of the attack: silent, small, and powerful—it was an assassination attack._

_Tears continued to fall from Uno's eyes and silently, Uno gathered to her feet and balled her fists, knowing what she had to do, that her years of preparation had finally paid off. She knew there was nothing wrong with Theresa and that Theresa was a common civilian; that bullet was meant to hit _her_ and missed._

_Without another thought—despite how badly she wished she had a gun on her possession so she could aim and take cover to return fire—Uno kicked at the ground and began running as fast as she could back the way they came, leaving the body behind. The years of training for her future finally paid off as she knew to escape and decided to run top speed. If the assassin _really_ wanted to kill her he'd have the ability to chase her down but Uno won't go down without a fight._

_Wufei had taught her _that_ much, thanks to his styles of martial arts._

_She wasn't sure how fast she was going but she knew that she was running faster than she ever had for the team at school. She always received first place for running fast but Uno, without a doubt, was fleeing faster than her top recorded speeds._

_Up ahead she spotted the gate to the mansion and pacing her breath, Uno tapped into the emergency energy she had remaining. She couldn't believe how much she had seen so far and how much she had felt, but wouldn't Theresa have felt worse?_

No_, Uno decided as she neared the gate. _Theresa felt nothing as the bullet went straight to her brain

_Her eyes began to blur with a fresh wave of tears but Uno blinked them away, unable to allow herself to slow down even one bit. If she had, the assassin could be on her tail quickly. She rounded the corners of the stone wall and came to a skidding halt at the gate. Ripping the backpack from her shoulders, Uno flung it over the gate then headed towards the bottom of it. Unless she could become super human and leap high into the air about twenty-feet, she'd have to crawl beneath it._

_When she emerged on the other side, she kicked at the ground to gain her speed back up, grabbed her discarded backpack, and hightailed her ass towards the front door of the mansion._

_She had to get to safety and there were no questions about it. Once she was in the arms of Duo she would be safe._

_However, Uno knew, she would never be safe again._

Her lips were parted and her breath came in shallow gasps. Each gulp of air was like another presence flowing through her body, giving her the required, living oxygen she craved but passing through her swifter than anything she had ever encountered. She had less than a second to obtain all the oxygen she could from each breath she inhaled.

Her memory was horrible; it was one of the most horrible memories she had stored in her mind. In fact, it was the _first_ horrifying memory she had stored, the earliest one. She never witnessed her mother's death from the White Fang was as she was too little to take it all down and the explosion had flown her yards away into an alley. All she remembered of her mother was a quick glimpse before the black body bag zipped up over the face; Uno was hiding behind the dumpster at that time, terrified of what all the commotion was and wondering where they were taking her sleeping mother.

She learned later that her mother had died and she had to fend for herself on the streets.

But Theresa was a different kind of tortured memory. Each horrible memory meant something in her mind, listed in some category. Her mother was too vague to really have a category, Theresa was a friendship forgotten—although she didn't _see_ the attack. Ricky was a friendship _and_ a love and she, unfortunately, had to _witness_ as he shot himself in the head. The most of her family, she felt the loss hit her hard in the chest while she sang her final tune, her Requiem Mass. When Duo died and the rest of her family, she realized her life was meant for nothing but death and wanted to end it with a boom.

However, she woke up in Madam Giry's care, away from the only world she ever knew, and into a world she never had a chance to learn. All the documents from before the year twenty-eleven were erased for fear of repeating history and if not for her ability to hack into Heero's laptop and have Zero possess her mind, then she would never really be able to survive in the eighteen hundreds.

Her heart slowly regained its composure and allowed her to breath normally again. Uno lifted her head from its hanging position and swallowed back another lodge of tears stuck in her throat. Images from her childhood flashed across her eyes as she stared out at the Paris landscape before her. The stars of the sky glittered down from above, the moon shining brightly like the sun of the nocturnal sky, and the cool air blew windy breezes across her skin.

She lowered her head once again and whimpered. "Playground… school… bell… rings," she sang softly, "again. Rain… clouds… come… to… play… again." She swallowed hard, the tears flowing down her face even faster now as she remembered the swing set competition she had with Theresa before Ricky arrived at the school. The emotion brought a stronger pain into her chest, giving her a little more energy to cry; but instead, Uno channeled the lurking sadness into power for her lungs.

"Has, no-one told-you—she's not breathing?" Her voice rose in pitch. "Hello… I'm your mind, giving you someone, to-talk-to… hello?"

Uno swallowed hard and bit back the urge to cry out as she kept her shaky voice semi-low. "If… I… smile…and… don't… believe," she took a shallow breath. "Soon… I-know… I'll wake… from-this-dream."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to cool her shaky voice. Her lungs grew stronger with her body and her voice began to rise in pitch. "Don't-try-to-fix-me—I'm not broken. Hello, I'm the lie… living-for-you so-you, can hide…" she swallowed and choked out the rest of her plea. "Don't cry."

There was a noise coming from somewhere close by but she didn't care. Her mind kept flashing pictures of her childhood and she was busy trying to regain her composure; unfortunately, singing was the only way she knew how to do that.

"Suddenly, I-know-I'm-not-sleeping—hello? I'm still here," she paused to breathe out the rest. "I'm all that's left of yesterday…"

Uno bowed her head as she waited for the tears to finish falling. It took all of her willpower not to cry out and sob, but the remorse still ate away at her conscious. She didn't have a clue as to what she would do with her life from hence on. All she knew was that she was being haunted by her past and unless she found the reason to why she was sent to the nineteenth century, she would become insane.

-

Erik sighed and shifted in his perch above Apollo's steed. He watched from when the ballet rat arrived on the rooftop until she collapsed in what he thought at first was unconsciousness. He spent a good ten minutes watching her cry, huddled at the base of Apollo stretching out to the remaining Gods, shaking violently despite the warm air surrounding them. But right when he was about to leap of the statue she came to herself and gasped for air.

He had to be careful because his cloak got stuck beneath his weight and he almost fell off instead.

He didn't know what she could have possibly been doing in the fifteen minutes she had collapsed in a heap at the base of the statue, but he watched as she held herself and cried. Uno Maxwell was a mystery he was tempted to solve; only he didn't know where to begin.

He knew every night she snuck to the rooftop to be alone, sometimes she sang on stage—or out to the sky as she just had—and other times he realized she stole _his_ horse and rode out into the night. He didn't know where she ran off to when she left the Opera Populaire and though part of him craved to find out, he knew he had to wait for the right moment to follow her. He didn't want to chase her down when and where she would be able to catch him.

After all, if she had managed to flip him in the air without a struggle then he didn't want to know what other abilities she was hiding!

He was still wondering why she lied about her ability to sing. She had sung horrible on purpose—he was sure of it—and it had angered him, making him appear like a fool to his managers, the conductor, and ballet mistress. He wasn't even sure if Madam Giry could read into her to see if she were lying; Uno Maxwell had a beautiful voice and a tremendous gift. Even when she sang just a second ago, with tears staining her face and her voice quivering with more remorse, she had managed to keep up her powerful lungs and express her notes.

She had the talent and ability to sing _through_ her tears and _past_ her depressed state-of-mind!

Uno stood up and sniffled. Erik's brows knitted together as he watched her silently turn to face the world of Paris once more, then turn her back to it all and retreat into the shadows of the theater. He knew she'd head straight to bed and not steal away on his horse again.

He wasn't certain but he knew she was emotionally drained and if she wanted to prove to be as successful and perfect as she claimed to be, then she would want to rest herself for the coming rehearsals.

* * *

**Sad, eh? Anyone care to review? Come on... you want a faster update, I want more reviews... HAH! I hold the next chapter hostage for more reviews! Mwuahaha!**


	15. Bathed in Guilt

**(sighs) Yes I know... it's about time I update. Cut me some slack here! (frowns) I started classes two weeks ago and I had to catch up, already getting behind since I didn't get my books on time. I'm ahead of one of my computer classes and almost finished with my online computer class--God I love being the top student in all my computer courses!**

**I have a painting course I don't really worry about, and my final computer course will be a toughy, seeing as I can't afford Macromedia Director MX... it's $400 for students and $1,000 for everyone else and when you no longer can be classified as a student or plan to make money off whatever you make with Director, you will be sued, since you didn't pay the full $1,000 for it. Bogus, eh? But it's how commericals are made; commercials such as Coca-cola, computer advertisement, and even things not a commercial wise, like Linkin Park's Meteora cd (put it into the CD drive of your computer and let the 'Flash' screen load up--that's actually made with Director and not Macromedia Flash).**

**Yeah well... I know very FEW of you out there understood THAT topic... so ignore it if ya' didn't! XP**

**+ PLUS, I've been writing a _Gerard Butler_ fic on adult fanfic(the real address is on the top of my bio, right beneath my fanfic basic bio-header). I have no reviews for that so if you like Gerard Butler, please go and read it. I'm trying my very best with that fic and it's only got 1 review the last time I checked! (sobs) +**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter... it's 27 pages long, not so much frightening things happening as the other chapters had... but you get a really good surprise at the end of it all! (winks) DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! XD

* * *

- Chapter Fifteen - **

Madam Giry opened her door to see Uno standing on the other side. She bowed her head and allowed the young ballerina entry, then shut the door once Uno was inside. Turning to face the dancer, Madam Giry raised her chin.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

"I need another cigarette," Uno replied nonchalantly.

With a swift nod of her head Madam Giry strode towards the closed section of her armoire and withdrew from Uno's stash the box of cigarettes and the lighter. She handed them to Uno and instinctively Uno frowned at the light weight object at hand.

"It's empty," she murmured.

Madam Giry frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

Uno ripped the top of the box open and revealed to the older woman the empty inside of the box. "It's empty," she repeated. "There's nothing inside."

The woman nodded again. "Yes I can see that."

Uno frowned and lowered the box. "I'm out of cigarettes," she mumbled, glancing down at the box in her hands. The lighter was still quite full of fluid and the offset weight unbalanced feelings in her gut.

"Perhaps that is a good sign?" The older woman tried.

Uno shook her head. "Bad sign for it shows how irresponsible I am to ask you if it's full before asking you to withdraw a stick for me," Uno explained. "I'll have to go to the store now—I _know _you can still buy cigarettes in this day and age. Here," she handed the ballet mistress the empty box and stuffed the lighter in her purse, "you may want to burn this to hide evidence of confusion."

Madam Giry nodded but spoke out before Uno could turn around. "I advise you to leave behind the lighter," she urged. Uno frowned and stared at the other woman. "Objects like that have never been seen and should somebody see you light fire within your fingertips without striking a match La Marcella's words would hit the streets without her even having to speak of them."

Uno summed up what the woman meant without a second thought. "They'd think I'd be a witch for creating fire within my hand without a stick," she said bluntly. The woman nodded and Uno sighed, handing the lighter over as well. "Fine," she breathed out, "but don't discard it. Not only would it explode in your hands if you don't do it properly but it's still usable."

Madam Giry nodded. "Will do. And I will discard the empty container in the burner located within the first cellar."

Uno nodded. "Alright." She turned and retreated to the door.

"Uno," Madam Giry called out again. She clutched the cigarette box close to her chest with both hands and stifled a little smile. Uno turned to glance at her, brows knitted together.

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you, Uno." The ballet mistress declared. "And it is not everyday I am proud of somebody."

Now Uno was truly puzzled. She turned around completely, putting her back to the door. "Excuse me?"

"Even my daughter rarely makes me proud," the woman added in.

"What are you proud of? Watching what I say? Dancing swiftly and gracefully? Treating everyone with respect?"

"None of those for I have yet to see much of a change," she replied, making Uno feel like a little child caught red-handed with a lie.

"Then what?" Uno muttered out softly, truly lost.

"You have made a friend," the woman replied. "I am proud of you to have done such a thing."

Uno's brows knitted together once more. "Come again?"

"Charline?"

She snorted at that. "Oh please," Uno scoffed out. "Charline only follows me around like a puppy. I don't consider her a friend."

"Perhaps you should," the woman insisted. "You will need a friend within the Opera Populaire walls. Even the phantom has a friend."

"Yes and you are that friend," Uno explained. "You are friendly towards me and if you wish, I can consider you a friend. I _don't_ consider Charline a friend."

"Perhaps you should," she repeated.

"I don't need any friends," Uno spat.

"Don't lie, Uno," Madam Giry frowned suddenly. "You know you must have friends to entrust. Not a soul can live life without a single friend and I should not be considered your only friend—if you even consider me a friend to begin with. You need a friend your age and Charline is begging for that description. Don't lie to yourself."

Uno's eyes narrowed and a vein began to throb in her left temple. "_Don't_," she snarled, "_ever_ assume I _lie_!" Her brows knitted together and her voice rose to that of a shout. "I have been raised _not_ to run, _not_ to hide, and certainly _not_ to lie!"

"Uno," Madam Giry tried but was immediately cut off.

"If you assume once more that I lie then I will prove to you how powerful I was while I fought Synodd," she snarled out. "And I can guarantee this building won't be the _only_ thing destroyed when I'm finished, either!"

Madam Giry sighed in defeat and bowed her head. "I am sorry, Uno," she muttered. "I did not mean any harm."

"Then remember," Uno grumbled out. Madam Giry raised her head to see one of the most deadly of death glares that she had only managed to see on the phantom. "Never assume anything else of me ever again or you will see, first hand, just how bloody my life really is."

Uno turned immediately after she finished her statement and fled the room, slamming the door on the way. The loud _bang_ on the hinges shook the wall and startled the older woman in its quake. She breathed deeply to calm her racing hard, clutching the box closer to her bosom.

"Good heavens," she breathed out, "we are all trapped between what Erik expects out of us and what Uno demands to happen." She turned and glanced at the threatening note on her vanity table the owner had delivered, instructing the next audition to force Uno to sing correctly and not hide her amazing soprano ability.

-

As usual, when early evening sets in, the streets became busy with life only rather than watching it all from the safety of the rooftop, Uno was experiencing it from the center of all livelihoods. Uno excused herself through the many crowds of middle to high class faces and crossed the street after a carriage passed by. She clutched tightly to her purse and carried on down the sidewalk, glancing around at the shop windows she passed by.

She still had the puzzle she had yet to open and experience; perhaps sometime soon she could give it a shot.

Finally reaching the smoke shop, Uno pushed open the door and stepped inside. Four faces of men turned to glance at her and none turned back to the counter they were standing by. She narrowed her eyes and raised her chin, challenging them to speak. The clerk behind the counter stepped away from the trio of gawking men and rounded the counter to reach her.

"_Buona sera_," he said while bowing his head. Uno frowned, realizing the language immediately and noting that it was neither French nor English. "_È de servire?_" (Translation from Italian: "Good afternoon. Can I help you?")

Uno bowed her head in return and stepped up to the counter, still feeling the eyes of the other three men on her. She stifled a little smirk to show she was not afraid to be in the store. "_Un formato lungo pacchetto di sigarette senza filtro al mentolo, per favore?_" She asked, equally in Italian. (Translation from Italian: "A kingsize packet of cigarettes without filters and with menthol?")

The clerk gave her an odd stare and Uno glanced off to the side in deep thought. _Do they not have filters and menthols yet?_ She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, wishing very much to be back home in her own time where more than a few choices of cigarette selections stood out for use.

"_Sigarette, per favore_," Uno corrected herself. She opened her eyes and stared up at several of the boxes above and behind the clerk then pointed at a box and added in, "_Quelle lá sopra… a destra_." (Translation from Italian: "Cigarettes, please. Those up there… on the right.")

He nodded and brought down the box she pointed at. Uno reread the box carefully to see what the labels said. She was frowning, hoping that it would satisfy her nicotine craving, and she had a strong feeling that all the men staring at her were assuming she couldn't read the language as well as she could speak it.

She nodded her head and returned to stare at the clerk.

"_Una scatola di cerini_?" (Translation from Italian: "A box of matches?")

He nodded and withdrew a box from beneath the counter. Uno glanced down at the box and sighed, knowing damn well that she would have to suffer with piss-poor things from now on. She nodded and removed the said amount from her purse to pay. The clerk handed her back her change and Uno tucked it away in her purse then turned to leave, her cigarettes and matches in hand.

"_Molte grazie_," she murmured. "_A rivederla_." (Translation from Italian: "Thank you very much. Goodbye.")

"_A riverderla_," the clerk replied.

As soon as she stepped back into the world Uno tore a cigarette out of the box, struck a match, and began to inhale the fumes available. She tucked away the remaining cigarettes and sticks back into her purse and strolled away from the shop, not knowing nor caring where she was headed to. The sun was lowering, now hidden behind the buildings, and men were igniting the street lamps with their extended candle sticks.

She blew out a puff of smoke and leaned against the wall of a building to watch a lamp get brought to life. The world she lived in now was so different compared to the world she was raised in. To turn on a light there was a switch or solar powered—or computer generated, if you were on the colony. Now they actually ran off of candles and wick.

Uno chuckled. _At least it saves the bill on the electricity—if they even have _that_ yet._

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle." Uno turned to her left to see a heavy-set, gruff looking man in his late fifties. His beard was scraggily, his clothing ruffled, and he smelt of molt liquor that Uno hadn't smelled since she snuck past several drunken guards.

"How much are ye?"

Uno frowned; panic and anger began to settle within her gut. "Excuse me?" She spat out.

"How much?" He repeated.

She pushed off the wall and turned to him. Ripping the cigarette out of her mouth she furrowed her brows and fumed, noticing his eyes traveling up and down her body.

"I am _not_ for sale," she growled, a fist balling by her sides.

The man appeared puzzled at her statement. "Ye' aren't?" He grumbled out. "Ye' look like one of them whores so I asked how much ye'll be."

Uno clenched her teeth and flared her lips. Narrowing her eyes, she took a step closer and lowered her voice to a growl. "I warn you, _Monsieur_, that if you even _assume_ to get anything out of me I will have your testicles ripped away from your body faster than a train hitting you or a bullet tearing threw your head."

His eyes shot huge, mouth dropped open, and the color of his skin became as pale as a ghost. "Good heaven's Mademoiselle!" He shouted in alarm. "Ye' speak of the devil!"

Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back. "And should you mention this to anyone else I will know and come after you in your sleep," she warned. "It won't be the first time I have done something deviling."

He swallowed hard and nodded swiftly. "Yes Mademoiselle," he spat out. "I understand."

The man turned and ran off as fast as he could go to get away from her. Uno turned and began heading the other way he went, growling beneath her breath about how everyone assumed her to be a whore.

_And I'm not even dressed the way I was when Madam Giry first saw me!_ She added in mentally. Uno groaned softly and took a long whiff of her cigarette, angry once again that she had wasted time letting it burn on its own without smoking it off. In only a few seconds later, after her strong inhales, Uno was finished with her stick and flicked it away into a mud puddle on the street.

_I want another one badly_, she sighed. _But I don't want to get addicted to chain smoking._

"Uno!" Uno froze upon hearing her name drifting within the air. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly; she really wished people didn't scream out her name in public. Uno released a deep breath and hung her head, waiting for the other presence to finish catching up.

"Charline," Uno murmured out when she felt the new body besides her. "Please don't call me out like that in public."

"Oh," Charline frowned, "sorry I forgot people fancy you from the ballet."

Uno rolled her eyes. "Yeah that too," she mumbled in a whisper. She turned to the ballerina besides her. "What do you want?"

"Dinner," Charline smiled with glee. "I want to go eat and was hoping you could accompany me this time."

"Charline," Uno sighed.

"I won't take no for an answer," she cut in sharply. Uno frowned and stared at Charline in pure shock, amazed at the girl's sudden strict posture and serious gaze.

_Where did _that_ come from?_ Uno pondered silently. _Even Theresa didn't have _that_ ability with me!_

"T-then what will you take?" Uno mumbled out, still wondering what came over the girl besides her to make her a powerful person.

Charline smiled and her previous strict composure was replaced by her common self; it didn't even look to be possible for her to even have the ability to become powerful like that! Uno swallowed hard, pushing back the fact that she may have imagined Charline's sudden outburst.

"Only a yes," Charline replied sweetly.

"Okay," Uno said in defeat. "I chose the restaurant."

Charline shrugged her shoulders. "Fine by me."

Uno turned and Charline followed her across the street towards an Italian restaurant. She stopped just outside the building and stared up at the sign. Uno paused, sensing the girl not besides her anymore, and turned around to see Charline's puzzled stare.

"You coming?" Uno questioned.

"Uno… this is an Italian resurant." Uno nodded. "I don't know Italian."

"I don't think you need to," Uno replied. "They are in France, after all. I'm sure they understand French."

Charline glanced off to the side and Uno noticed a blush entering her cheeks. Stepping up to the girl, Uno lowered her voice to a whisper and frowned.

"You don't know French," she said, "do you?"

Charline stared at the ground and shook her head. "Only English. That is why my parents allowed me to come to the Opera Populaire rather than any other opera house. The Opera Populaire runs with English as the common language and I am able to understand it."

"I see."

Charline frowned up at her friend. "Please Uno… chose another restaurant? The Italians may have developed a business in Paris but I don't feel they belong here."

"Why not?" Uno spat back. "They're people and this is Earth." Charline sighed. "I'll order for you."

Charline stared blankly at Uno. "You know Italian?" Uno turned and entered the restaurant with Charline chasing behind her.

The waiter bowed his head and Uno did the same. Charline stared between the waiter and her friend stayed quiet, frowning and not understanding a single word passed between either person.

"_Un tavolo per due persone?_" (Translation from Italian: "A table for two?")

"_Per favore,_" Uno replied. (Translation from Italian: "Please.")

The waiter turned and began walking away and Uno followed, not checking to see if Charline was behind her. She sat at the table the waiter brought her too and Charline took the chair across from her, quiet as to disturb the two from speaking.

"_Il menu alla carta, per favore?_" Uno asked. (Translation from Italian: "The á la carte menu, please?")

The waiter nodded and handed both girls a menu from the stack in his arms. Charline frowned down at the Italian writing and then stared up at Uno in confusion. Uno lowered the menu to the table and glanced at the other ballerina.

"What do you want to drink?"

"I… pick for me?" Charline asked with a pink hue in rising in her cheeks. Uno nodded and turned back to the waiter.

"_Un bicchiere vino rosso casa, per favore?_" (Translation from Italian: "A glass of red wine, please?")

The waiter nodded then left to assume her order. Charline, no longer confined to remain stunned, gawked at Uno, immediately receiving a frown in return.

"What?" Uno replied in aghast.

"You know Italian!" Uno nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "But Italians are not in America. I know because I would have seen them, since New York is the liveliest of all cities."

"I'm sure _some_ Italians have entered America by now," Uno dismissed with a wave of her hand. She picked up the menu and stared down at it.

"But," Charline paused and still pondered the subject, "who taught you?"

"My parents," Uno replied calmly.

"Do you know French, as well?" Uno nodded. "So English, French, and Italian?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "Among other languages."

Charline gawked again. "_Other_ languages! What else?"

Uno glanced at the ballerina from over the top of the menu and stared nonchalantly at her. "Many," she said coolly. "My parents wanted me to be fluent as much as possible."

"How do your parents know those languages?" Charline asked curiously. "Let me guess… your father was Italian and your mother was French."

Uno shook her head. "My father was American," she corrected.

"Well," Charline paused and thought about the remaining choices. "Your mother was either French or Italian and one of your grandparents was the other. Right?"

"Wrong again," Uno returned to glance at the menu. "I never really had a mother."

Charline was clearly stumped now. "How can you not have a mother? And if only your father raised you how did he know three languages?"

"He didn't," Uno replied. She closed the menu and lowered it before adding in, "and he wasn't."

Charline opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it when the waiter returned. Uno turned away from the ballerina and stared up at the man besides their table. He bowed his head at her and Uno nodded back. She handed him the menu.

"_Bistecca alla fiorentina, brasato alla ricotta, tortellini._" (Translation from Italian: "T-bone steak cooked in wine, with ricotta cheese, and stuffed pasta rings.")

He nodded and jotted down her order then turned to Charline. Charline opened her mouth as if to speak and gaped at Uno in fear. Uno's brows knitted together, contemplating what Charline would most likely prefer to eat, being an American and all.

"_Ben cotto bistecca alla fiorentina fagioli_," she stated. (Translation from Italian: "Well cooked t-bone steak with fresh or dry beans.") The waiter turned to stare at Uno before nodding and jotting it down. He turned and left the table when he finished.

"I ordered you a well cooked T-bone with a side order of beans."

Charline smiled weakly. "Thank you, Uno. What did you order for yourself?"

Uno sighed and relaxed back in her chair to the best of her ability, despite the straining corset keeping her upright. "A t-bone steak cooked in wine and topped with ricotta cheese and a side order of stuffed pasta rings." Uno frowned in confusion at Charline's gaping face. "What?"

"So much food!" Charline gasped. "How will you ever eat it all?"

Uno smirked and glanced off to the side. "I eat until I _can't_ eat anymore. On average since I've joined the Opera Populaire I've been eating three pastries per break."

"Three?" Charline gasped.

"Charline," Uno paused and leaned over the table, "you're acting like the other giggly, foolish ballerinas and I would appreciate you stop acting in such a way or I will leave you right now."

That certainly wiped the stare off the other girl's face. "Sorry," she muttered, glancing down. "You just stun me so."

"Yeah well," Uno relaxed back with a struggle once again, "I stun myself at times."

"So how did you learn all three languages if only your father raised you?" Charline returned with the previous topic.

Uno took a deep breath and blew it out in a rush. "He had roommates of different nationalities."

Charline's brows creased in unison. "Roommates… of different… nationalities?"

Uno nodded. "He lived in a mansion—sorry, estate," she corrected herself, "with four other men and adopted me when I was little."

"So… one of them knew Italian and one knew French?"

Uno's face twisted in disgust and she shook her head. "No," she spat out. "None of them spoke those languages. I learnt Italian and French because they wanted me to be able to understand more languages."

"So your father lived with other Americans in an estate," Charline summed up. "I didn't think many Americans were that rich, yet."

Uno frowned and stared across the table to the girl seated in front of her. "They're not Americans," she corrected. "Only my father was an American."

"And the others weren't Italian or French?"

"No. More like Japanese, Chinese, Arabic, and Spanish."

Charline stared off to the side. "I have never heard of those," she mumbled.

"Those are nationalities," Uno explained. "As your nationality is American and mine is a mix between American and Japanese."

Charline's mouth dropped. "You are only _half_ American?" She gasped.

Uno sighed and glanced down at the table between them. "Yes," she replied breathlessly. "My mother was Japanese."

Charline frowned in confusion. "I thought you said you never knew your mother?"

"I really didn't," Uno explained. "She died protecting me from an explosion when I was little and afterwards up until Duo found me I was living on the streets."

"An explosion?" Charline gasped. She paused and knitted her brows in worry. "Who is Duo?"

"My father," Uno explained. "My mother named me after him."

"But… you said he adopted you off the streets. How could your mother have named you after the man who later adopted you?"

Uno sighed and leaned over the table. She lowered her voice to a warning tone. "I'll warn you before I carry on, alright?" Charline nodded, leaning over as well. "I don't normally go around explaining my life story to people so if I find out this reaches anyone other than you Hell will await every dance step you take."

The color drained from Charlines face. "Am I clear?" Uno questioned. Charline nodded. "Good."

"Uno," Charline slurred out, "you're so evil."

"What I'm about to tell you, Charline, will explain it." She frowned but Uno stared at the table rather than the ballerina's face and explained the most she could with releasing hardly any information at all. "The explosion happened in the battle my father fought. I later learned he had once met my mother but left directly after to fight his own battles. The explosion happened, killing my mother and sending me to become a street rat. Eventually, I bumped into the man I later learned was my real father—what a coincidence, eh? He adopted me and it was until last year I learnt who he really was to me."

"So," Charline responded with an equally soft voice like her friend's, "your father raised you to tend to battles regarding Indian tribes just incase you are alone?"

Uno pushed back in her chair and gawked at Charline's outcome. "W-what?" She gasped.

Charline sat back in her chair and shrugged her shoulders. "Well I assume since you are from America you have had Indian battles. What I don't understand is what you mean as 'explosion'."

"Right," Uno slurred out, feeling cold chills run down her spine.

_What did I let slip?_ She panicked, hoping she could catch herself and wishing she had done so before speaking.

"I didn't mean explosion—I mean gunshot," Uno corrected.

"Oh," Charline frowned softly. "So she protected you from being taken by the Indians. How sad."

Uno nodded and lowered her gaze to her lap where her fingers fidgeted. "Erm—yeah," she mumbled out, unsure of what to say next. "Yeah I think I stayed hidden, unable to really crawl out from beneath my mother's weight."

Charline pouted and stared at her friend. "I'm so sorry, Uno." Uno said nothing and only shook her head. "So that's why you're so serious and precise with what you do, trying to perfect whatever you accomplish so you can always be prepared for another invasion or attack." Uno swallowed hard and nodded again. "And yet you even stayed on the streets in secret until your father found you—how terrifying."

"Charline," Uno whispered, her head still hanging, "please stop."

Charline lowered her head to her own lap. It wasn't as if Uno was depressed by the story Charline summed up, but rather depressed for the lie that had been released to cover the truth. All her life, Uno never _once_ lied; it was a gene passed down from Duo, he told her, that she didn't have the ability to do.

_I may run, I may hide, but I never tell a lie,_ she heard Duo's words in the back of her mind. When she grew up and followed through in the war those words have changed to say, "I don't run, I don't hide, and I never tell a lie."

Uno breathed deeply to calm her pacing heart. Her palms were sweaty, her head felt light, her vision was dizzy and blurry, and when she released her deep breath, it came out shaky. She wasn't as nervous about everyone thinking she had to always hide from Indians her whole life—if she could even recall ever seeing one; it was the fact alone that she had told a lie.

She had broken the Maxwell hereditary gene, the one thing that labeled her a Maxwell by birth. All she had to do now was cut the braid; she would become a Cleaver and the Maxwell gene would end right there.

The waiter arrived only moments later and delivered their meals. When he was finished he bowed once more before leaving. Charline immediately picked up her utensils and dug into eat. Uno stared at the plate before her, feeling very sick to her stomach, and no longer feeling the appetite to even take a bite.

-

It was late when Uno and Charline returned to the theater. The street lamps were lighting up the empty streets and the two girls were practically alone, save for the few drunks that hung around the corners of alleys, searching for fresh meat or prostitutes. Right before either girl could reach the entrance of the Opera Populaire two drunks staggered out before them.

"Look at that," one of them slurred out, "ballet rats." The other snickered.

"How did they know?" Charline whispered to her friend, who was currently growling and balling her fists.

"Charline, back up some." Charline took a few steps back, letting the Indian fighter claim the current battle. "Go away," Uno snarled out. "I don't want to have to hurt you!"

She received a bunch of laughs for that one. Uno snarled out again. "Please," she added in.

"And go home empty handed?" One of them choked out through a laugh.

"You can always find a prostitute to suit your needs," she offered. "I'm sure if you keep looking, one might be desperate enough to get fucked by a boy as worthless as yourselves."

Both of the men stopped in their staggering and balled their fists. "How _dare_ you speak to me like that," the one on her left growled out. "You ballet _rat_!"

Uno sighed and rolled her eyes. _Why do they keep calling me a rat? Don't they realize some rodents carry diseases and are very dangerous to their health—oh wait… I forgot… people in this time are stupid and don't know about diseases yet._

"Look," Uno shouted, "you two are filthy and dirty and ballerinas aren't to be seen with scum like you."

"How _dare_ you call us that?" The man on her right screamed out. "I'll make you pay for calling us those names!"

"How much?" Uno breathed out. "Five francs? Ten? Fifty? Perhaps a hundred?" She teased.

"Don't you try and play coy with us," the left man slurred out in a snarl. He advanced on her and grasped her shoulders in a fierce grip; however, Uno remained standing her ground firmly. "I don't appreciate being called that by a ballet rat."

"Why do you people call us rats?" Uno asked casually, staring into the man's eyes, ignoring his whisky-coated breath. "When will you people learn that some rats carry diseases that can kill?"

The man snorted. "And what, _pray tell_, do _you_ carry, wench?"

Uno frowned and glanced off to the side. "I'd prefer to be called bitch," she murmured to herself, "because then I at least understand what that means."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Quit changing the subject!" He spat out in her face. "I want you and I'll have you whether you agree to it or not!"

The other man advanced on Charline and the ballerina screamed and backed up a few feet. Uno wrinkled her nose in anger, her brows furrowing and her eyes narrowing. Her fists clenched tightly by her sides and she waited until the man became to press himself onto her body before making a move.

She raised her knee into his groan, bringing it painfully into his balls. He gripped her shoulders and screamed in her ear but Uno had dealt with worse pains then a weak grip or scream. She waited until he released her and backed away a few feet before spinning around and bringing the heel of her foot in the roundabout fashion. The man fell unconscious onto the ground and she turned to see Charline straddled.

"Get off her!" Uno snarled, charging the other man.

She leapt onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. The man stood and brought his arms around towards his back to try and grab at the girl who had jumped on him but Uno was faster, trained to prepare for such things to happen. She locked her legs around his waist to keep from falling off him, held his chin in one hand and his the crown of his head in another, then twisted fiercely. There was an audible _snap_ before he fell to the ground.

Charline struggled to stand up and backed away a few feet. She stared down at Uno and gawked at the body her friend casually stood up and backed away from. Uno stretched her arms and popped her neck then turned and glanced down at the other body.

"Y-you—what did you do?" Charline stuttered out.

Without looking back up Uno turned back around to the body she had just broken the neck of. "I snapped his neck," she stated casually. She knelt down and turned him over to lay on his back then without thinking, punched his nose to the side, breaking it and sending it into another direction. Charline cringed and tried to shy away from the scene but didn't know where to hide. Instead, she stayed put and watched in terror as Uno turned to the man she had shoved off herself.

Uno rolled him onto his back and winced at his expression; he blacked out with pain etched on his face. Clearly the nuts would stun him in the morning. Knowing the aching could kill him alone, Uno decided to save him the misery of being in pain by punching the center of his ribcage as hard as she could one time, breaking his Sternum. Charline cringed again.

"What are you doing?" She croaked out. Uno raised her head and frowned up at the ballerina several feet away.

"When the coroners view the bodies they will wonder how they died, seeing as a simple broken nose is hard to die by and the other one doesn't show any telltale signs of being dead unless he's examined _inside_ of his chest plate," Uno explained. "This way the authorities will be confused how the cause of their death happened. The broken neck won't even been found out, as well."

"U-Uno," Charline murmured. Uno stood up and stepped up to the shocked ballerina with a serious glare on her face. "You killed the two stage men in the theater… didn't you?"

"And if you tell anyone about any of this I will kill you, as well," Uno warned. "Keep that in mind, Charline."

Without another word she turned away from the girl and headed towards the building. Charline ran after her friend and caught up to her. She kept her gaze to the ground in front of her and stayed quiet, uncertain of what to say to lighten the mood. She had several ideas in mind but wasn't sure about saying either one.

"Thank you," she finally decided to say albeit softly. "For saving me from that man. I've never been with a man before and it would be more terrifying than if I had."

Uno nodded. "You're welcome," she replied just as softly. As soon as they entered the building Uno turned to face Charline. "You go on up. I'm going to take a bathe before retiring to bed."

"Are you sure?"

Uno nodded. "I feel nasty having his hands all over me."

"Alright," Charline stifled a smile. "I'm glad we're friends." She turned and ran off before Uno could retaliate against that. When she was gone, Uno glanced down at the floor with a frown.

"Friends," she let the word die on her tongue. "I haven't had a friend in years."

_I guess it's about time I make another._

-

Erik sighed deeply and sat in the dark corners of the stable. He was certain Uno would take to the darkness and ride his horse again; she hasn't done it in a long time and he was certain she would do it tonight. He didn't know how he knew; he just knew. She hadn't stepped onto the rooftop in the past few nights, she hasn't stolen his horse since last week, and next week he would have her forced to sing for his managers.

But until then he wanted to find out where she ran off to when she stole his horse.

There was a sound coming from the front door of the stables and ducking back into the shadows of his corner, Erik securely wrapped himself up in his black cloak and narrowed his eyes. He was sure to wear his full black mask tonight to keep his white half mask from showing against the darkness. Since he had fired the stable boy his men have been short handed with tending to the horses but it wasn't what a little extra pay could fix; he had told the managers to up their cut until he hired a new, more _trusting_ stable boy to work the night shift.

A flowing of Emerald skirts came into view and Erik smirked, seeing the long braid behind the lithe form. He was right and he didn't know how he could have expected it. Uno had decided to steal his horse—or rather, _borrow_ it—again, this same very night that he had even decided to follow her through.

She stepped up to the gate; he was certain he had kept the padlock secured and locked up, wondering how she got on the other side when the last he saw she had leaped over it—and she was in breeches. He watched as she gripped the top with one hand then swiftly hoisted herself up and over the gate, swinging her legs around and landing on the other side. Erik's mouth gaped open partially; the last time he had recalled seeing moves like that he was a boy in the Gypsy band.

She stepped up to the horse and pet his mane. Erik heard her murmuring beneath her breath, whispering things to sooth him. Next, she turned and stepped up to the saddle hanging on the wall and picked up the blanket, then returned to the horse. He watched in amazement as she clothed and readied him then with another pat on his muscular neck, she mounted him with ease.

Erik, his brows knitted together and his mouth gaping open, watched as she directed him around in a wide circle then jerked him into a run, guiding him towards the gate. Hercules leapt into the air as gracefully as his current master and landed on the other side just as swiftly. Without even stopping Uno directed the steed out of the stables and off into the night.

Immediately Erik leapt to his feet and mounted the black and brown horse he had dressed up earlier that night. He always knew she would steal his horse and felt it would be that same very night; so preparing to follow close behind, he gone ahead and prepared. As soon as he was situated he pushed open the gate with a broom that sat on the shelf besides him and kicked the horse into gear, taking after Hercules and following the ballet rat into the night.

-

Uno let the night air cool her off. The breeze that blew through her hair whipped the braid up and flung it around. She directed the horse through the harshest of deer trails; over bushes, through thick brush, over discarded tree limbs, through puddles of rain water and mud. There wasn't a single obstacle she let slow her down until she reached her destination.

The waterfall.

Quickly, Uno slid off the horse and patted his strong thighs before turning towards the lake. The water glistened just like it had the last time she visited it at night. The multitude of stars in the sky were reflected off of the tops of the waves, the light of the moon glowing against the Cliffside of the hills surrounding the outer skirts of the lake, and the waterfall cast a beautiful veil of deformity to anything that lay behind it.

And all she could see that lied behind it was a rocky wall.

She sighed heavily and lowered her purse besides the base of a tree. The horse began walking away a few feet to find a better patch of grass to stand within and turned to gaze out at the horizon. Uno smirked, thrilled at the creature's obedience. She began removing the dress from her body and carefully placed it on the ground besides her purse; if Madam Giry or any of the other girls were to see a stain or tear on her dress the world would be in chaos and Uno would have to discard her dress to keep herself safe.

After all, if there was _one_ thing she wasn't ever taught and didn't have a single clue about, it was either removing stains—laundry—or mending tears—sewing. Duo never taught her how to do those things and Quatre wasn't around to teach her; nor were any of the girls responsible for raising her as well.

After the dress was laid neatly on the ground Uno went about removing her corset and the rest of under garments she wore. She cast those aside just the same then brought her braid around to her front to release her hair from the tight weave. It's been a long time since she had left her hair undone and the moment it was released she scalp felt ten times better. She quickly removed the bar of soap wrapped in cloth from within her purse and turned towards the lake.

The horse turned and watched as she slipped one foot into the water then turned back away towards another, more interesting view. The water was cool as it grazed upon her flesh and as she dipped her second foot into the lake water, the nasty grime on her body began disappearing, being replaced by a cool, refreshing feel. Soon, the water was up to her waist and still rose with every step she took into the lake, in the direction of the waterfall. Behind her floated her many strands of brown hair, twisting together and becoming entangled. Normally she would care but at the moment she was just pleased to be able to bathe.

The cloth covering the soap got drenched when she dove head first into the water, covering her body entirely within the cool atmosphere. She swam the rest of the way in the direction of the waterfall, not being able to see a thing beneath the surface of the water due to the night shadows, but she could _hear_ the waterfall only a few feet away.

Uno reached the surface and gasped for air. It wasn't as if she needed the air that badly, though; she just felt a sudden breeze whip past her when she surfaced and it had startled her for the moment.

The ground around the waterfall was shallow, bringing her up until the water settled around her lower hips. Cut into the rock wall was a tiny groove, a shelf just wide enough for the bar of soap and just long enough to hold it. She smiled and set the bar down on the ledge. When she stood beneath the waterfall she was quickly doused with water, drenched more times than she could ever count. The cool water felt wonders against her marred flesh, splattering against her many scars with its massaging beat and relaxing feel. She closed her eyes and dipped her head backwards, letting the water splash against her face and the trails of water to stroll down her back and cascading hair.

-

Erik narrowed his eyes, angry for loosing track of where Hercules had ran off to with its trespasser. The last he saw of them they had jumped over several fallen tree limbs and thick brush. Erik had to keep hidden and in the distance so he couldn't be caught but when he had reached the brush and directed the horse over it he had found Hercules had disappeared.

_Where is that bloody horse?_ He fumed.

He was stunned Uno knew how to ride a horse through such obstacles, let alone ride _his_. Most women didn't know how to even ride a horse and those who did rode side saddle; Uno rode very well with a standard European saddle and she rode _his_ horse while doing it!

_How did she manage to tame Hercules to obey her as his master?_

Erik slowed the horse down when he reached the end of the path. Before him was a vast opening, a span of space that consisted of hills, stars, a lake with a waterfall—

And Uno Maxwell bathing beneath it.

Erik felt his breath catch in his throat at the scene before him. He guided the horse backwards, back into the safety of the forest shadows, hoping Hercules hadn't heard him and made a move to warn Uno and he hoped Uno hadn't seen him either. When he was hidden, he dismounted and tied the horse to a tree limb before ducking behind a bush.

He frowned. _She stole my horse to bathe in the lake?_ He never assumed a woman to do such a thing, to care to bathe at night in the wilderness. _Why would she rather bathe here than in the bathing rooms in the dormitories? _

Uno hung her head and the water rained down on her back, sending her hair to spill out over her shoulders. Erik winced, despite the ability to see in the darkness, but when the clouds that covered the moon moved away to allow light to wash her as, he felt his lungs contract and the breath in his body freeze.

There, standing before him beneath the waterfall and bathed in moonlight, was one of Gods most exotic and most beautiful creations ever. Her long brown hair spilled out over her shoulders and down her torso, outlining an amazingly thin waist, and delicately curved hips. She turned her front towards him to allow the water to cascade down her back, and Erik gasps as he witnessed two ripe mounds hanging from her front. He has seen many ballet girls filled to their capacity but none were as pure as hers. Her skin appeared smooth and glistening, her breasts full and round, her stomach was lean without a single inch of fat, her hips were broad and well defined, and her pubic portion was bare of any hair.

God, indeed, had created a creature so exotic that even Apollo, himself, couldn't keep from gazing at.

-

Uno picked up the bar of soap and began lathering it up over her entire body. She dragged it across her arms then her under arms, her shoulders, her neck, the when she found it was lathered up as much as it could go she raised it to the top of her head. She began scrubbing at her hair, bringing forth bubbles of the oddest smell compared to what she was raised with, and began cleansing herself.

She scratched her scalp with one hand while lathering each of the strands of hair with the bar of soap in her other hand. She had backed away from the waterfall to wash her hair. Uno brought forth her hair over her shoulder and began scrubbing at it, working the bar of soap over it until she decided it was clean. When she finished with her hair she backed herself into the fall of the water and use her empty hand to glide through her hair, letting the water dribble through the strands and wash the filthy soap scuds away.

As soon as her hair was finished she brought the bar of soap back to her arms and rewashed her upper half. She scrubbed the bar over her arms and under them, around her neck and shoulders, and then began to drag it around on her torso. She scrubbed at the filth she felt coating her breasts and stomach, her thighs and pubic section. She raised a leg out of the water to scrub all the way from her inner thigh down to her toes then switched legs to do the same.

Still, no matter how much she washed with the bar of soap she still felt filthy, grimy, and guilty.

_Guilty of charged_, she berated. _I've killed four men since I've been here—two of which I've been witnessed within. What's going to happen when other people that aren't close to me like Charline or Madam Giry find out? Will I be safe anymore?_

The bar fell from Uno's grasp and into the water, but she didn't dive in after it. Instead, she hugged herself and gazed down into the reflection of the water. To any other person they'd seem themselves in return, shining back up at them, or even perhaps an entity, no matter how they viewed themselves.

All Uno saw were scars.

She saw the scar that crossed over the center of her face from beneath one eye to end beneath the other. She's been wondering why nobody ever noticed it; after all, were appearances what labeled you these days? She wondered why nobody had ever noticed the scars on her wrists and arms. Madam Giry had noticed the scars on her torso and stomach but that was it; the poor woman was naive just the same to the total amount of scars Uno had on her _entire_ body.

She was filthy.

Filthy, tarnished, and guilty.

Too filthy to clean, too tarnished to polish back up, and too guilty to be given another chance.

She would never sparkle again, not like she used too, not like Theresa had or how Charline does. She would never be given the ability to change for the better. True, she may have a friend now but all of her friends have died in the past and since she knew she wasn't able to change for the better, for the future, they would still die in her future.

For all she knew, some guy who would hate her and want vengeance against whatever Uno may do and use Charline as a hostage against her, much like Theresa was use to her in the past. No, Uno didn't need any of that. She didn't need Charline as leverage and Charline didn't need Uno as a friend; she would be better off with other people.

Charline was in danger, labeling herself as Uno's friend. _She's better off without me,_ Uno berated. _Better off because she won't jeopardize her life being my friend, since everyone who befriends me dies. I won't change—I won't be able too. The curse will never be lifted and I will forever be damned._

She sighed, giving in to the one battle she had to claim defeat. She _was_ Shinimegami, after all; death wasn't allowed to have second chances.

-

Erik felt his lungs straining to contract and inhale his next breath. The moonlight grazing across the ballerina's body outlined a figure so exotic that the Gods would struggle to control themselves.

_Just as I'm doing now_, Erik mused. He had always considered himself Apollo, since Christine had called him her Angel of Music.

Uno's long hair cascaded down the sides of her body, helping the alluring image of her remarkable figure within the light of the nocturnal sun. Her lithe arms wrapped around her upper torso, shielding only one of her beautiful breasts while squishing the other against her arm. The expression on her face as she stared down into the water rippling around the sensual curves of her thighs was sullen and depressing, almost making Erik want to step out into the moonlight and wrap his arms around her.

Almost.

He knew if he made his presence known she would remove that façade of human emotion and attack him much the way she did before, despite being nude. The only reason she would win this time would be because he wouldn't because to stare at her face without dragging his eyes across her body. And even then she would be in danger, as he wouldn't be able to constrain himself against attack her.

Much as he was yearning to do now.

Erik winced and turned away from the scene. The erection brought on by the vixen's presence was enough to drive him madder than he was when he tried to steal Christine away from the stage.

_And what do I expect to happen if Uno becomes the diva?_ He berated. _I will be damned to follow down the same path as her voice will captivate me as her body just has._

-

Uno sighed. The biggest thing she hated was lying to Charline about her history. She hated lying to _begin_ with! It was a trait in her family gene, the one thing besides the braid that symbolized her as a Maxwell descendent. Duo had taught her that to lie would be to condemn yourself to Hell and she never once heard Duo lie to her.

_He never lied to be about the truth of him being my father,_ Uno told herself, _he just never told me until the very end._

And as she totaled up earlier, all she had left to do now was to cut her braid and become Uno Cleaver, her mother's daughter rather than Uno Maxwell, her father's little girl. She didn't want to do that; she was a Maxwell, following in his footsteps on becoming Shinimegami, and being the little girl he had raised.

Sure she had lied several times so far, as the managers asked her about singing and how she had to lie, but she still sings when she's alone. She couldn't consider that a full lie, as she still sang when they asked. She really _didn't_ know the scales for which to sing as she was never taught them. When she sang to the managers she didn't allow the full use of her voice to be released. She only told them what they would have assumed on their own. Had she said she _could_ sing and sang in such a way they _would_ assume her to be lying!

She only fooled them and not herself, but when she lied to Charline she had fooled herself and it had hurt. It had hurt big time.

"_Baka_," Uno spat. "_Kuso baka_!"

She sighed loudly then brought herself back into reality. It was late, she was still underneath the waterfall, and she needed to get some rest. The rode back to the theater would be chilling against her damp skin but she needed to head back as soon as possible.

Uno took a deep breath then dived into the lake after the bar of soap.

-

Erik swallowed hard and restrained himself from making a move out into the open. If she would surface at any moment she would immediately spot him. Even if she spotted him from beneath the surface of the water she could still catch him, only in the water where she's hidden by blackness would she be able to contemplate a plan of escape or attack him.

He had to refrain from making a move _and_ refrain from trying to subdue the feelings riding within his gut, making his breeches awfully tight.

He inhaled a sharp breath to cool his shaky nerves. Uno resurfaced and headed towards the waterfall, putting her back to Erik's view. He swallowed hard once more when he caught sight of her firm buttocks and broad thighs. She removed something from the rock wall and turned to retreat to the side of the lakebed. Erik watched as she waddled through the water, making ripples of her own to fight against the ripples of the falls, then slowly began stepping out of the lake all together.

He gasps as her body was bathed in moonlight from head to toe, clearly visible for him to view. She turned his direction and for a brief moment Erik thought she had seen him. Instead, she passed right by the bush he hid within and knelt down by the base of a tree not far off.

She dressed in her under garments then stood back up and headed towards a boulder that sat on the side of the lake. When she took a set Erik watched as she combed her fingers through her long hair and removed the tangles of each strand. The moon washed her with its rays of light. She continued to brush her fingers through her hair until all the tangles were out. When the brushing was complete, Uno raised her hands to the nape of her neck and began parting her hair into three sections to be braided.

Erik swallowed hard once again. With her hair loose and flowing freely around her body, Uno was purely a goddess. She was more beautiful than any entity he had ever heard or read about, she managed to capture his very breath breathe without even trying, and she was every inch woman for her young age when most girls adapted their womanhood later on in life.

Those who have received it early in age were filthy and filled the world as prostitutes or wenches.

She finished braiding her hair and secured it with the same fastening she had always had tied to the bottom of the braid. Uno stood back up and returned to the base of the tree. Erik noticed her expression was softer than how she appears during the day or any other time he sees her. Now she appeared human and feminine whereas all other time she appeared as cold hearted as he felt everyday of his life—except for those whereas Christine was involved.

Uno stuffed the bar of soap back into her purse then donned her Emerald dress. She stepped up to Hercules and after patting his strong neck, mounted him and rode off into the forest in the direction of the theater.

Erik stepped out of the bush and stared after her. As soon as she mounted his horse the prior glimpse of Uno he had seen all over time save for her bathing returned; she had looked every inch cold hearted as he felt all the time. But when she was naked and bathed in the light of the moon and the cold water of the lake, she had appeared very stimulating, attractive, and soft.

She had appeared a woman Erik could easily lose himself within. He returned to the lake to image her still standing beneath the waterfall and sighed. Things were definitely about to become a lot harder to deal with, with Uno around.

* * *

**(giggles) Did you all enjoy that nice little happening?**

**Oh do tell... review and do tell... but don't forget to review the rest of the chapters! XP**


	16. Secrets Of Passion

**18 pages... big whoop. Please don't get upset for the first half of the story. This fic is rated M, for mature audiences... aka: rated R, for restricted against those younger than 18!**

* * *

**- Chapter Sixteen -**

His sensual lips covered her in a hungry kiss, devouring her taste with his feasting mouth. He craved her essence, her very breath. She was his everything in that one moment, in that period of time.

Seeing her step into the room made his body wake with lust, made his manhood harden. She stood before him with passion in her eyes but a challenging fire burning behind it. She was tempting him, a temptress of the night. She was ready for him to attack, waiting. She leaned on the doorframe and smirked, her luscious lips forming into that smirk he knows so well. It forms whenever she dared him to speak, to fight against her.

It was the smirk that had gotten them together quicker than the forces of fate, quicker than they would have gotten if time had worked its own way into their lives.

"Dear God Uno," he breathed out, his own voice husky and unnoticeable. The last time he has ever heard his words laced with lust he was in the hands of a prostitute, a vixen running off of nothing but sheer drugs and sex.

She neared him in that moment of time, reaching out for him and grasping his shoulders. He raised his head and gazed up into her violet eyes, his own cobalt blue orbs glazing over. Her lips puckered into a grin, teasing him with all known might she could ever possibly obtain. Her hands trailed up his back, lifting his white dress shirt in its move. Her head ducked and grazed across his neck. His eyes closed as the feelings wracking his body filled his mind.

"Uno," he breathed out.

"Shh," she shushed, trailing her lips up and over his chin, purposefully missing his lips and trailing down the other side of his neck. "Just stay quiet."

Her voice, that charm in his life, the beacon in the dark, edged him further, closer to the edge. He had never been so confined in all his life. When he was little and first lost his virginity it was new and exciting, but he was the one in control over it. Now, now Uno was in control and made certain he knew that and that he remembered she was boss.

The little vixen knew what she was doing, it appeared. For a virgin, she entirely had the upper hand.

He swallowed hard and glanced up at her. She stared down at him with her sensual smile, enticing him to at least give it a try.

"Go on," she whispered, daring him. "Try it."

"Uno," he breathed back. "You—"

No words got out as she claimed his lips. In that very moment she was everything he had learned throughout his life. She was daring, challengeable, strict, and extremely compassionate. She was a vixen, a temptress, knowing what she wanted and going in for the kill without a second to waste. He slid his tongue into her mouth and found hers in return. Together, their tongues danced. The flames of passion consumed them, heating their every move. He raised his arms and confined her into a desperate hug. His fists balled parts of her shirt up and his arms flexed, wishing he could take her right then, but knowing he would have to wait and hold it off for the right moment.

She broke the kiss suddenly and raised her head to rain kisses all over his beautiful face. She kissed his closed eyes, his brown brows, and his finely shaped nose. She kissed his broad forehead, his temples, and down to his earlobes. He kissed her in return, devouring her skin with as much as he could get. His lips trailed along her neck, his tongue dragging over her flesh. She tasted salty and hot beneath his touch. She was warm and heated, filled with as much passion as he was at that moment.

Uno broke away and stared down at him. Her eyes dazzled at him, twinkling in a fashion like no other. Her lush lips puckered into a grin, quirking at the edges. She stared into his eyes, deep into his crystal orbs, daring him to try what was on his mind. Panting, he stared back. Her tongue shot out and stroked her upper lip, enticing him to his full capacity. The breath caught his throat, unable to be forced out. He swallowed hard, hoping that would clear him up, but to no avail. He gasped for air when he was able.

"What's the matter?" She purred into his ear, leaning over to get close enough so her body touched his. Her breasts pressed against his chest and in that brief moment he wished he could let his mask slip, let her see who he really was and how many people he had complete control over.

"Uno," he forced out, his breath ragged, and his voice husky. "God Uno—you're so fuckin' hot."

She smiled. "What's the matter," she lowered her head and hovered her lips above his. "Too chicken to fight me?" He swallowed hard, panting when her breath came out hot against his mouth, her lips tantalizing him mere centimeters away. "Too afraid if I win?"

"Uno," he groaned out.

His hands pressed against the small of her back, pulling her down to his level. He claimed her lips in a full attack and gripped her hips. Her body reacted to his just as he expected. He felt the warmth pooling between her legs, through the thin fabric of her black miniskirt. He lifted her up and separated her legs, making her straddle him. She gasped, alarm running through her veins. She stared down at him in horror, mildly stunned at his actions.

"Didn't think I could do that," he joked out. "Did you?"

Her eyes narrowed as the challenge was understood. She licked her lips and lowered her head to his shoulders, eliciting a moan from her own lips and causing a groan to escape his. He swallowed hard and gasped for air, choking on his next breath as her lips circled around a pulsing vein in the crook of his shoulder. His hands gripped her back, digging into her body in ferocity. Her own hands dragged from his shoulders down his arms, and away from his body. She stroked her own legs, teasing him, causing his body to react even further. Her hands trailed along her thighs and down her legs, past her knees and towards her boots. Her fingers stroked the outer rims of the black leather, dipping inside to search for her desired utensil.

His hands rose along her back and found the zipper of her black top, hidden behind the unraveling braid by the nape of her neck. His fingers gripped the tag and pulled, dragging it down inch by inch, wanting to take his time preparing for the kill; when he reaches the end he'll strike out without a second to waste. He fell backwards, the girl of his life collapsing on top of him.

Uno's fingers found what they were searching for and wrapped around it. Without a second to spare she whipped it out and let her body fall with his. Instantly, she hoisted herself up onto the back of her haunches and straddled him. She had him right where she wanted. With a grin, she placed the tip of the blade against his throat.

"As I said," she repeated herself, her own voice laced with ferocity, "try me."

"Uno," he breathed out. "You temptress."

"Don't make me wait any longer," she said seductively, pressing the blade against his neck until he had to gasp for air beneath the pressure. "I hate taking this long to get a job done."

She really was a temptress. She was quite literally asking for a fight. She was the goddess of the night, the vixen of the dark, the creature of the night. She was what she was raised to become, what she had always wanted to be. She was Shinimegami, the Goddess of Death, his sensual bitch who would strike without asking. Fear never met her eyes and he would never have the opportunity to find out if there would ever be a chance.

She had him good and he had fallen for her trap.

"Uno," he murmured, "you tricked me."

"As I said," she muttered softly, "don't keep me waiting forever, Ricky." Her eyes narrowed as her tongue shot out to trace her lips, teasing him and his erection she felt beneath the thin fabric of her thong. "I don't like waiting too long."

"They really raised you well," he groaned out. He closed his tilted his head back, exposing the flesh of his neck in a dare. "Right down to the seductive air you walk with."

"Do it!" She snarled out. He opened his eyes and dazed up at her. "I've waited long enough for you to try at me and I can't wait any more!"

"So you think starting it yourself would make me go any faster?" He countered sharply. "I work at my own pace, Uno. You've known that for years."

She flared her lips and growled. "Is that what you did when you killed Theresa?"

His eyes sparkled in interest and a smirk formed on his lips. He tilted his head to the side, looking at her in another approach. So she had found him out, after all.

"So you've known," he murmured.

She was breathing heavy now. With a swift nod of her head, she growled out, "I've known when you told me what your father's name was."

His smirk widened into a grin. "And you played me the entire time I played you?"

Her eyes narrowed. Pressing the blade deeper against his neck, she leaned in closer and snarled in his ear. "I've known this entire time and waited for the moment you tried to attack me. Tell me Ricky," she paused to glance at the side of his face, "how much have they been paying you? How large is the check for my head on your platter?"

"Honestly?" His grin weakened and returned to the smirk.

"Yeah," her eyes narrowed. Her tongue darted out and lapped against his ear. She heard him shudder and draw in a sharp breath, taking in as much oxygen as he could with his boiling blood. "Honestly."

His hands trailed down from her back and rested on her legs. His fingers squeezed, gripping her muscle in warning. "I'm amazed it took you so long to figure it out."

She frowned and pulled back to stare down at him. In less than second, he gathered all of his strength and flipped the two of them over. Only a minute ago Uno had the upper hand and was straddling him, a knife pressed against his throat as her sultry voice purred in his ear. Now he was above her, his hands pressing against both of her wrists, pinning her beneath his form. His lower half pressed her into the bed, pushing her chances of victory away, shoving it out of her grasp. His fingers worked quickly and ripped the knife out of her hands. He flung it to the side and reclaimed her wrists in the death-grip of his hands.

"Honestly," he lowered and pressed himself against her body to near her ear just the same as he did to her recently, "I _am_ amazed at you, Uno. I went to Duo several weeks back and told him everything."

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted at the knowledge she was learning. "Liar," she raced out through her next breath.

He pinned her against the bed with his hips and pressed himself against her body. She closed her eyes and drowned in the sensations his hard body gave her. A fevered moan escaped her lips and his mouth fastened on her neck as she arched her back, exposing the delicate flesh that covered the feminine machine, bred to defeat him. She closed her eyes, unable to comprehend what was running through her mind at that moment.

"I was scared to admit defeat," he whispered into her ear. "I was scared to shoot you and I missed. Theresa died because I couldn't kill you." His tongue lapped against her lobe and he pressed himself against her heated body, digging his strengthened manhood against her heated nub.

"Ricky," she panted.

"But by God, Uno," he purred into her ear before nipping it. She gasped. "I wasn't sure when I could escape my father's grasp but I had to. When I finally got away I came here and Duo agreed to hide me."

"Liar," she raced out, her breath weak with passion. "You _lie_!"

He narrowed his eyes and whipped out a switchblade from his backpocket. Quickly drawing it out, he stubbed the tip of the hilt by her chin and pulled back. Uno opened her eyes, feeling the cool metal against her skin. He was staring down at her cruelly, his lips parted as his breath raced through them.

"You dare not believe me?" He forced out.

"I think you need a spanking," she grinned all of a sudden. "You've been awfully bad, lately."

His eyes narrowed and a smirk formed on his lips. "Is that so?"

She chuckled seductively, evilly. He pulled the knife away and through it to the side of the room, ignoring the use of a blade in the time's chance. He claimed her lips and devoured her flavor. She arched her back and dug her own hips into his, stabbing his gut and piercing his very soul. He needed her badly and he knew she would fight him until the very end.

"So this is it then?" He groaned into her mouth. "We have to duel it out?"

She parted and pressed her elbows on the bed, leaning forward to lift them up. Her eyes opened and she stared up into his eyes with lust. Her lips parted as she gasped for air. A trial of perspiration dripped down his cheek and fell off his chin to land on her collarbone.

"Yeah," she raced out through a breath. "I think so." Uno shoved off the bed and pushed forward, sending him beneath her and straddling him once again. He gripped her legs and thighs as she bent over and kissed him with bruising force.

"I think so, too," he breathed out. She panted and closed her eyes, feeling his hands work the zipper down her back.

"Ricky," she whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I need you badly, Uno," he growled out. "And I don't care who walks in—I need you. I've needed you for years."

She felt her head grow heavy with the weight of his lust as it filled her mind up. Erotic heat pooled between her legs and she pressed herself down on his stiff body, desperate to remove the clothing from between them. Her moist thong tortured her and his thick military pants made her aching to rip them away so she could find him with her hands.

"Ricky," she breathed out. "Oh God, Ricky."

"Uno," he returned, leaning forward to kiss her throat as the zipper finished its trail down her back. His hands dragged around towards the front of her shoulders and began sliding the shirt down. His lips followed his hands and kissed every inch of skin he found was once hidden beneath the thick cloth.

"I love you, Ricky," she panted. "God I love you."

"Always," he groaned back, his hands grasping her buttocks and gripping it. He pressed her against his stiff self and elicited a groan from the back of her throat. Right before his lips claimed a perky nipple he growled out, "I will always love you."

---

Uno stared at the ceiling in the dorm, feeling very empty. She had believed her dream to be real, considering it felt so strong and affected her so well. She had awoken and almost felt as if she were in the warm, strong arms of Ricky, naked or not. She didn't care; that dream had touched her so much in a way she didn't think was possible.

But when she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the ceiling of the dormitories and alone in her bed she knew it was just a dream

_I hate you, Zero._ Uno closed her eyes and breathed deeply. _I hate you so much._

-

Uno was flexing her legs the following day when Charline stepped up to her. The stage was clear, not yet packed with the staff of the opera house. Uno regarded Charline with a swift nod of her head then began her early morning exercises.

"I figured I would find you in here," Charline said sweetly. She began flexing as well. "Are you doing alright this morning? After last night I'm hoping you are."

"What are you talking about?" Uno stopped twirling and frowned over at her. "Nothing happened last night." There was a warning to her voice that told Charline to drop it.

Charline giggled. "After dinner you seemed awfully down."

Uno frowned, taken aback. "I did?"

She nodded her head and stretched her arms high into the air. Uno backed up a step and glanced down at the stage floor. What was Charline talking about? What was she referring to?

"I mean, when we were returning to the opera house I had asked you what was wrong and you insisted you were fine," she explained. "I tried again and still you insisted you were alright. I let you go, thinking you just needed that bath you went to take."

"Charline," Uno lowered her voice, "watch your words."

Charline gaped at Uno in mock alarm. "What have I said?"

"Charline," Uno growled out.

"Honestly Uno," Charline turned and put her back to the perfected ballerina, "you act as if somebody has died last night." A cold sweat broke out across Uno's face. "All I did was temp you to tell me your problems since you are so closed up." She turned and glanced at Uno from the side, a secretive, charming smile tugging her lips. "Is that wrong?"

Uno's mouth had parted in shock. "Charline," she murmured out.

Charline turned back around, putting her back to her friend. "If you don't close your lips, Uno, flies might land in your mouth."

Uno shook her head and shut her lips. "What are you getting at?" She growled. "You _know_ what happened last night."

"Exactly," the ballerina chimed in. Uno stood in silence, staring at her in shock. Charline was taking this coversation lightly! She turned back to Uno with a grin and stood in a form that showed she was ready to do a swan leap.

"But they don't," Charline added in.

Uno realized all too late what Charline was referring too. She felt a wave of stupidity wash over her and wish a breathy sigh, she turned away. Groaning, Uno closed her eyes and tilted her head back. After finished the swan leap, Charline giggled at Uno's reaction.

"My, my, my, Uno Maxwell," Charline purred out. "I can see you have gotten slow."

"Silence," Uno raced out in a threat.

Charline giggled in response them turned away. No sooner than that the doors to the stage burst open and a flock of dainty girls filled the room. Madam Giry stepped up to the front of the stage and began directing the ballet into position. Uno followed Meg to the side of the stage to watch the play and wait for her cue to dance. Rehearsals began that day, the final day of casual practice before they had to begin dressing up.

-

By the end of the day Charline caught up with Uno and wrapped an arm around her back. Uno frowned over at the brunet bunned girl and backed away. Charline smiled and leaned in to grasp Uno in a hug.

"You can't escape me," she said cheerfully. "I'm your friend whether you like it or not." Charline closed her eyes and wrapped her other arm around Uno's waist.

"I know," Uno said nonchalantly. She began unlacing herself from Charline's grip as best as she could. "That's what I'm terrified of."

Charline stared up at violet eyes in confusion. "You're afraid of being my friend?"

"I'm afraid of you overpowering me," Uno replied honestly. "The last friend I had that acted like you was timid. I'm almost beginning to wish the two of you had switched places."

"Oh?" Charline pulled back and walked with Uno towards their dorms. "And what would have happened had we been switched?"

"I'm sure she wouldn't have left me, being as weak as she was," Uno replied, really referring to Charline's strength compared to Theresa's weakness. If Charline were shot in place of Theresa, well, she would have died as well but Charline wouldn't have been as easy a target as Theresa was.

Something told Uno she would be strong enough to fight alongside of her.

"Well," Charline breathed out, "would you like to go out for dinner again? Perhaps this time, earlier so we would be safer?"

"Sorry Charline," Uno breathed out. "I'm not hungry."

Charline gasped. "But you haven't even eaten at break, today!" Uno turned to her and stifled a smirk. "Surely you must be famished."

Uno shook her head and started up the stairs. Charline followed behind and frowned. "Uno… how is it you can do all that you're capable of doing and _not_ ever eat a thing? What do you do?"

"I'm used to going with out it," Uno answered. "I don't get hungry much." Uno stepped off the stairs and continued towards the dresser.

"But why?" Charline asked from behind.

"Because she's a witch!" La Marcella shouted back. Charline frowned back at the ballerina and glanced back at Uno with worry. Uno turned and watched Marcella stalk towards her.

"She's a witch and if she ate she would be easily captured," Marcella explained. "All you would have to do is lace her food with poison and this witch would die of her own doing."

Uno's eyes narrowed but her lips formed a smirk. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. "Don't you ever get tired of insulting me? I mean, you don't even do it that good so why do you keep trying? The further you take this 'witch' topic the worse you get at it." Marcella gasped. "At _least_ find something else to use against me. You get rather boring, otherwords."

"How _dare_ you," Marcella snarled out through a sneer. "I should have you abducted by the authorities for such mannerism compared to me!"

Uno bit out a bitter laugh. "Oh I hope you know what you're talking about, Marcella," she chuckled. "Because I know how to twist words around to make you appear the crazy one here. In less than a day I can have you arrested for theft or sent to the asylum."

Marcella's lips parted in shock. "You _witch_!" She seethed out. "You only stay because you are the phantom's _whore_!"

Gasps came from Marcella's friends and Charline snapped her gaze at her friend. Uno's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She balled her fists tightly and dropped her arms to the sides of her body. Marcella grinned through her sneer and her eyes twinkled with a challenge. Uno reached out and backhand slapped her fist across the girl's face. Instantly, La Marcella flung to the side of the room and fell to her feet. She turned and stared up at Uno in fright, covering the spot where her face was struck.

Uno glared down at the girl by her feet with one of the death glares Heero had taught her in her youth. She lowered her arm back down to the side of her body and breathed deeply. Charline covered her lips in shock and Marcella's friends backed away in fear.

"Don't ever let me catch you saying those words about me again," Uno threatened, her tone dark and sinister. "And if I do, I will show you _more_ than just 'witchcraft'. I will show you a Hell that you have _never_ been taught."

"Y-you really _are_ a witch," one of Marcella's friends gasped out loud. Uno raised her gaze to the girl with frizzy red hair and bright blue eyes. "You have just done one of the worst sins by cursing somebody."

"Sins?" Uno repeated in a question. "Sorry… I don't believe I was ever taught about 'sin'."

More gasps and Marcella scrambled to her feet. She backed away from Uno in a rush and pressed herself into the safety of her friends. Her hands remained on her face, covering the bruise Uno was certain were beginning to form.

"How were you not taught sin?" The long blonde hair and brown eye'd girl stammered out. "It's one of the most known words in the religion language. It is in almost every passage in the Bible."

"I don't know what you're babbling about," Uno retorted. She took a few steadying deep breaths to calm her pacing heart.

"Y-you don't know what the Bible is?" The black hair and green eye'd girl breathed out in shock. "It's the book of God."

"I haven't heard of that book," Uno retorted. She turned her back to the ballerinas and withdrew a dress from the bottom drawer. As she exited the room she paused and turned back to add in a little bit more to her statement.

"And I know first hand that there is _no_ God."

-

Uno ignored the comments she heard handed out at her as she made her way towards the rooftop. She knew people were tempted to follow her—Charline for one—and with those thoughts in mind she raced towards the door so she could lose them. She knew none of them would expect her to take to the rooftop.

Hell, it was still broad daylight and she didn't expect to do so, either!

She slammed the door behind herself and sighed deeply when she stood in the rays of the setting sun. Before her, the sun was casting a hue of vibrant colors across the lands. Uno neared the edge slowly, taking in the beauty of the city beneath her feet. Everyday was the same thing. She would wake up, deal with Charline's aggressive triumphs to become her friend, rehearse against Madam Giry's challengable gaze, fight La Marcella and her circle of whores, then take to the roof or woods for a moment of silence.

"It's almost as if Paris doesn't know they are being overseen," said a deep voice.

Uno snapped her gaze towards her left and saw a man in pure black leaning against the statue of Apollo's horse. Her first guess at his figure was that he was Duo, back from the dead; but what he wore didn't _entirely_ strike her as Duo's clothing choice. True he wore a black cloak and possibly black clothes beneath it, but he wore a white mask covering the right portion of his face.

"I wonder if they would know if anything alarming happened up here," he added in.

"Who are you?" She spat out, knowing he definitely wasn't Duo by the deep, husky voice laced with an English accent. She narrowed her eyes and took a weary step back.

"I mean you no harm," he told her as if he had read her mind. He pushed off the statue and turned towards her. With a bow and a wift of his cape, he introduced himself.

"You may call me Erik."

Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back, telling him to take the first strike. "Uno," she replied. Erik replied as if taking it into memory.

He stood back up and drew in a deep breath. "You are a ballerina, no?" He asked casually.

Her head turned to the side so she could look at him from another angle. "What would it matter?"

He smirked suddenly and returned to stare out at the scenery before him. "You're suspicious of me," he stated.

"Oh yeah?" She cracked a smirk and placed her fists on her hips. "What gave it away?"

His brows rose to the hairline of his forehead. He turned to her with mild amusement and delivered a smirk in return. For a moment, Uno thought he was playing with her mind but instead, she found he really meant no harm. She couldn't make anything out in his voice; not a quiver, not a hint at a secret.

"Sarcasm," he muttered before smiling. There was a twinkle in his green eyes that had Uno's heart fluttering briefly. "How unusual."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" She snapped back, the brief moment of heart fluttering long gone now.

"Forgive me," he turned away and stared out at the scenery once more. "I have insulted you. As I said, I mean no harm."

"So who are you?" She crossed her arms over her chest and leant on the base of the statue of Apollo reaching out to the Heavens. "A dancer, as well?"

"No," he returned calmly. "I… work with the Opera Populaire."

She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes, glancing at him in another light. "Musician, singer, stage handler—what?"

He smirked and faced her suddenly. "I guess you could say all of that. I am one of the managers' patrons."

She nodded her head and turned to watch the setting sun. "Then perhaps you can tell those two fools to act like managers and to stop trying to tell everybody what their jobs are," she scoffed out. "Before I give them another piece of my mind and have something bad happen because of it."

He turned to her with a grin. "You and I have the same opininions, Uno." She frowned over at him. "We both agree that Monsieur Andre and Monsieru Firmin could do a _much_ better job."

She snorted and turned away again. "And the owner as well," she added in. She didn't notice the flash of interest cross his eyes as she stared down at the streets below her. Several men were lighting the street lamps.

"How so?"

"He should tell them what to do," she explained with a bit of anger at her tone. "Instead of letting them continue on like they do. Either that—or _he_ doesn't even see it, himself."

"Is that all?" He asked, his voice wondrous. Uno sighed and turned to stare out at the other side of the world, her back to him now.

"No," she breathed out. "I wish they would replace La Carlotta. That woman's voice will bring down the chandleir one of these days if she keeps singing like that."

Erik began chuckling softly. Uno shuddered and rubbed her suddenly chilled arms. "I swear," she added in, "if I have to dance to her horrible voice once more then I'll be forced to quit."

"Don't do that," he said suddenly. She turned and snorted at him briefly before staring back out at the world before her. "If you leave, the Opera Populaire will lose one of its best dancers, ever."

Uno snorted at that. "At least I protect my ears," she retorted.

"Believe me," his voice was suddenly deep, "you _won't_ have to worry about her for very much longer."

Uno frowned and turned back to stare at him. He was staring at her intensely, his eyes bearing down into her lith form. His sensual lips were pressed into a thin line, his square jaw stiff against his posture. He stood tall and firm, proud about what she didn't know, with strong composure. His black hair was slick and pulled back. His body was strong, full, and enticing.

If Uno wasn't careful she could fall for him at any moment.

Could.

She turned back around, putting her back to him and stared out at the dark sky where stars were beginning to shine out among the lands. "So how often do you come up here?" She asked, trying to find out if she were still safe up on the rooftop or if she would have to find another place to hide when she didn't feel like running away with the horse.

"Not very often," he admitted. He turned and glanced out at the scenery where the sun disappeared behind. With a sigh, he lowered his head and stared at the ground beneath his feet. "I have been busy with my own agenda."

Uno turned to face him and cocked her head to the side. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. Erik, sensing himself being watched, turned around to face her in return. He frowned and stared back.

"You remind me of someone," she murmured.

He smirked suddenly. "You have a strong grip," he mumbled. "And strong arms to be able to flip me in the air."

Her mouth dropped open and she gawked at him. "That was _you_?"

He smirked and glanced out at the buildings in the distance, seeing the Moulin Rouge sign lighting up with red near the horizon the scenery. Uno continued to stare at him with her mouth open and her eyes as wide as saucers.

"W-was that your horse?" She stammered out. She shook her head, hating her weak voice.

"You may use if it you wish," he told her. "I rarely ride Hercules anymore so it's good you are putting him to good use."

She swallowed hard. "Hercules, huh?" She stifled a smirk. "Nice name."

Erik nodded his head. "I agree. The amazing steed stunned me so when he obeyed you. I taught him not to obey strangers and he never obeyed the stable boy."

"What happened to the stable boy," she brought up. "I haven't seen him in a while."

"He was fired," Erik retorted. "Not doing his job."

Uno frowned and sagged her shoulders. "Well then that's a bad thing." He turned to her and knitted his brows together. "Now the next stable boy the owner hires will notice me at night and not let me take Hercules for a ride."

He shrugged his shoulders and glanced back at the Moulin Rouge sign in the distance. "Tell him you have been given the opportunity to exercise him as often as you wish. They will listen to that."

"Will do," Uno smirked. "I'm sure they may be shocked, though."

"They will be," he added in softly. He turned to her suddenly and gave her a warm smile. "You are a wonderful ballerina. I am certain you and Meg will show all of Paris a wonderful duet."

She stifled a smile. "Yeah," she breathed out. "I'm sure we will, too."

He bowed his head. "If you would excuse me, I shall let you receive your rest."

Uno's smile became genuine and she curtsied properly. Erik smiled in returned and stepped up towards her. When she stood back up, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

"You were raised with royality?" He asked her.

Uno shied away and glanced at the ground. "No but I have been taught to treat others with respect."

Erik nodded and kissed her knuckles. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle."

She smiled up at him, feeling herself getting lost in his green eyes. "Goodnight, Monsieur."

Erik released her hand and left the rooftop. Uno stared at his back and watched him leave. When he was gone she glanced at the ground then touched her hand, where the kiss he had given her still felt warm on her skin. She traced the lucky knuckle with her fingertips, gently stroking it and recording it to memory.

For the first time in her life, she had a happy memory used with her hands and not a bad one. Somebody had kissed her hand and the _correct_ way, not the way Relena had preached her men shouldn't do. His kiss was a gentleman and charmed her with his touch; not an offender of sorts and dared her in an attack. And she hadn't harmed him to make the memory bad. Clearly, she was going to remember that moment.

Uno frowned and glanced back at the door. _He said his name was Erik… well Erik… thank you for lending Hercules to me. Perhaps not _all_ people in this era are worthless and untrustworthy._

Uno smiled and sighed. She let her hand fall back against the statue she leant on and stared up at the black sky littered with stars. Like so many times before, Zero returned her thoughts with her own voice and stated its opinion.

_Not all people are worthless and untrustworthy, you say? So you do not trust Charline, Uno? But doesn't this mean you owe something in return for Erik lending his horse? Perhaps you should reconsider your thoughts,_ Zero had warned. _Not _all_ of humanity is as hard to see through as the ones you were raised to catch. Perhaps you have become _too_ strong to notice the easier ones… one such as this Erik._

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Shut up," she seethed out. "Shut up and go away."

_Never,_ Zero shot back. _Perhaps one of these days I will, sweet Uno. But until then, you need _my_ protection to keep you alive._

Uno sighed deeply, knowing Zero was right. If she let Zero leave her now she would surely be lost in the world. Zero was her ticket to safety, her means of staying alive in the eighteen hundreds. Without Zero, the computer system that turned everything into a battle stragety, she would not have managed to win each competition she had ever been in or the auditions she had completed on stage.

Without Zero, she wouldn't be Shinimegami.

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**Now I hope you all are happy... THERE, THEY MET!**

**Chocolate roses to all who review and those who review for the fic and not just for the chocolate rose gets a free kiss from the phantom, anywhere they desire!**


	17. Master of Vengeance

**This chapter finishes off from the previous chapter... so it's VERY short. 3 pages... enjoy Erik's true nature is coming out!**

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**- Chapter Seventeen -**

_She fell for it_.

A smirk played across Erik's face as he stalked through the dark halls of the Opera Populaire. Behind him, Uno remained on the rooftop, most likely in a state of aw for the sudden meeting with the man she had topped in the stables several nights ago. He was slightly worried about his new plan but he had no other choice. She was a tough match.

He spent hours of a day, searching, looking, _waiting_ for something to use against the ballerina and all he found were tidbits where she could easily win him over. She had killed two stage handlers and probably the two drunks who the police found earlier that day outside the front of the building. She had used her body in some sort of exotic fashion to gain a part of the ballet. She had sung and hidden her voice to the managers. Everything he found he could use against her she had managed to twist around to save herself. All he managed to get were split ends and lies.

Erik took a deep breath and stepped through a portel to one of his secret passages. He tried as hard as he could to find something and nothing worked. She knew how to cover her trails well and block whatever possibilities lied ahead of her path to use her.

_But not this one,_ he berated. _Apparently she wasn't prepared for _kindness _and sincerity._

He descended the steps to the bowls of his lair in thought. Since he couldn't turn cruel and unyielding against her he had to become nice. Since she wouldn't let her guard down even for a moment, Erik had to resort to other treacherous approaches. One such as using her gender against her own good.

And she has fallen for it head over heels.

He wasn't too certain it would have worked, however. He wasn't sure what all that he could have done. He knew being rude would only get him lost in a maze of her existence so instead he turned down another approach. He stepped out onto the rooftop and waited for her, hoping she would appear that night rather then wait for another night. He hid behind the steed of Apollo and watched Paris from above; watched them like he would had he been needing use against France instead of one little ballet rat.

And just as he was hoping, she stormed out onto the rooftops like so many other times before and joined him. He had startled her, yes, but he had been prepared for that. She was upset about something—La Marcella, most likely—and needed to get away. He treated her as he would have he been a true gentleman and not a monster and she had remained skeptical of him. He had expected her to be weary of him.

What he did _not_ expect was her sarcasm.

_The vixen knows how to hide behind a smile_, he berated as he stepped into his gondola and pushed off the shore with the pole.

Uno Maxwell, the perfect ballerina in everyones eyes, was set up in a trap she would have no way to fight back. Erik knew that she was able to handle tough situations and challenges, problems that may take some hard work to get out of, and occurrences that may become a little _dirty_.

But he also knew that she most likely wouldn't be able to fight back when being stabbed in the back.

Uno Maxwell, the Opera Populaire's most secretive ballerina who is hiding some devastating, hideous secret about her life, has fallen for the first trap the phantom of the opera has laid out beneath her feet. It had told the Opera Ghost all he needed to know.

Uno Maxwell will fall for any kindness shown to her. She will not expect foul play coming from concering faces or caring words. She would not be prepared to retailliate if the persons she had befriending suddenly turned on her. And above all, her foolhardy heart had been quickly fooled into believing the first step of the plan.

Erik took a deep breath and sighed. She had mentioned she had seen him and he was prepared to remark on that, just not so suddenly. She doesn't forget faces, apparently. She had noticed his mask and connected it with the happenings of that night he had confronted her in the stables. She appeared stunned but charmed when he lent her the use of Hercules. As known, she had fallen quite easily under his spell.

His plan was working and quite well, indeed. She had fallen for the first step and soon would entirely be in his command, be forced to obey everything and anything he demands to be done, and will follow no one else. Uno had, perhaps, one chance to back away; however unfortunetly, she had used that one chance up when she fell into his trap.

Erik was prepared to make friends with her _just_ so he could use her in the end, a sort of back stabbing, one may call it.

"_Never_ mess with the master of trap doors, dear sweet Uno," he mused in a dark tone. "For all you know, each breath you take elicites another trigger for the next door you stumble across."

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**Mwuahahahahaha--coughs! (giggles) I so love Erik's cruel mind... mwuahahaha! Just wait... what does he expect to happen when he learns about Uno's war history? (snickers) What do YOU think will happen when the Angel of Death meets up with the all-powerful Goddess of Death?**


	18. The Final Straw

**I originally wanted to get this out before the weekend because we had to flee from Hurricane Rita... but I didn't and I forgot what I wrote so when I came back, I had to suffer and struggle to continue. Lol! We didn't get out in time... but Texas state law says we can't have Mandatory Evacuation until at LEAST the last minute. SO... since they did so... they expected the 4th largest city in the nation to escape in three single days... HIGHLY IMPOSSIBLE! We turned around and came back home, since it took 2 hours just going 10 miles. But it was good we did cuz everyone else ran out of gas, lost their cars, had to pay to get them back, and they all had to stay in shitty shelters that were put up at the last minute for those who couldn't flee. And now everyone was trying to get back INTO town at the same time! (Laughing hysterically) I'm sorry but come on... I have the right to laugh at these people... I live in Houston so... yeah. But also...WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE TRASHY PEOPLE THINKING, LITTERING THE TOWN AS THEY MAKE THEIR ESCAPE! I MEAN, COME ON! YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOW THAT YOU WERE THERE BY LEAVING YOUR TRASH BEHIND! It's like you're saying "Hey look all, trash was here!" God... why the fuck do you wreck your homes?**

**God I hate people... they're nothing but scum.**

**This chapter is 25 pages long. It's a good chapter that starts the juiciness for the rest of them. Many of you who have read Susan Kay's Phantom (off take of Phantom of the Opera--its PotO in Erik's eyes) will catch some of the flash backs. Have fun... I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot!**

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**- Chapter Eighteen -**

Charline sat down across from Uno the morning of opening day and smiled brightly. Uno, who was currently biting into a pastry, paused and frowned. Charline folded her arms over the table, ignoring her own meal, and stared at Uno with glee.

"What is it?" Uno murmured out wearily. She lowered the pastry down to join the second and took a deep breath, steering herself.

"I'm so happy for you," Charline squeeled out. Uno pressed back in her chair to widen the distance between the two. "Tonight is the opening and you will be dancing with Meg!"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Charline—it's only a dance."

The set to her left was suddenly occupied by her partner. "Are you ready for tonight's opening Gala, Uno?" Meg asked as she lifted a pastry to her lips.

"What's _not_ to know?" Uno retorted. "We've been relaxing because we've been finished with our duet since we received our parts."

"Well I know that," Meg waved her hand in the air, "but I am still slightly worried."

"Why?" Uno bit into her pastry.

"Well… Count Verafaunte will be there. He has told me so, himself. He said that if I prove to dance wonderfully tonight that he will take me out to dinner the following night," Meg explained dreamily. Charline's smile grew when she watched Uno roll her eyes and swallow her bite rather harshly.

"Meg," Uno groaned and turned towards her, "I can see why you got all jittery for that but what if you _don't_ dance _wonderfully_?"

Meg gasped. "But I must! I am the ballet mistress's daughter."

"I don't mean that," Uno sipped her tea before continuing. "What I'm saying is the words he didn't speak." At Meg's confused expression Uno explained further. "In other words, he wouldn't want to even acknowledge you exist if you mess up."

Meg's lips parted and her brows knitted together. "You don't assume he would do such a thing," she breathed out, turning from Uno to Charline. "Do you?"

Charline simply shrugged. "Uno has a point, Meg."

"Besides," Uno said after taking her second bite. She quickly swallowed before continuing. "Count Verafaunta hit on me once, as well. He's only looking for good bedding."

Meg blushed deeply at Uno's wording and Charline giggled. "Uno—I think your American talk is beginning to show," Charline whispered.

"Been showin'," Uno retorted before taking a sip of her tea. She turned and noticed Meg staring down at her untouched plate with worry on her face. "What is it?"

"But he was charming," Meg mumbled out.

"All men are," Uno said sharply. "They all simply want one thing no matter what else they tell you, and that's a good night with the woman they currently have their eyes on."

"What do you think I should do then, if I succeed in becoming a big hit?" Meg raised her saddened eyes.

"Tell him you're busy," Uno answered. "I'm sure Viscountess Christine de Chagny wouldn't mind backing you up if you tell Count Verafaunte you've been invited for dinner with the de Chagny's."

Meg nodded and pouted slightly. "That is true. And Christine _would_ do such a thing as I would to her."

"Then there you go," Uno bit into her pastry once more.

By now Charline was eating and Meg had just begun. Uno never really asked for friends or people to join her while she relaxed and ate but after Charline, Meg became a common attribute to her dining essentials. For the past few times Charline would have Uno dine out with her, Meg had been there as well. Uno didn't mind; she could tell Meg needed another close friend since Christine moved on and Charline wouldn't _ever_ take no for an answer. The few times she had tried she had learned quickly how determined Charline really was.

Charline would constantly annoy Uno in everyway possible until Uno would either explode or give in.

She never exploded.

"Witch," La Marcella stepped up to the table on Uno's right and sneered down at her. "I will be watching you closely tonight."

"Good," Uno retorted, staring into her pastry and never bothering to look up. "Perhaps you can take notes while you're at it."

Marcella's eyes narrowed. "You're a disgrace to this opera hall. You _and_ your little American friend." Charline frowned and glanced down, her appetite gone. Uno nodded her head slowly, understanding the challenge. She lowered the pastry and stared at Charline, feeling angry for the outburst at an innocent heart rather than her guilty one.

"You need to quit practicing in front of a mirror," Uno bit back sharply. She turned to Marcella suddenly with a wry grin of her own and sarcasm laced to her words. "You're acting as if you're reciting the insults you give yourself every morning."

"I don't _have_ an American friend," Marcella growled out.

"No," Uno snorted out, "but you should. Perhaps having an American friend will help benefit you… teach you some decent manners since apparently the French have forgotten about you." Meg's eyes widened at Uno's remarks to the older ballerina.

Marcella gasped. "How _dare_ you!"

"I do dare," Uno retorted. "And I'll dare to continue should you cease to stop."

She gasped again. "You are the devil's whore! You are only here because you sleep with the managers and work for the phantom. You are _his_ whore and the managers' _slut_!"

Uno closed her eyes. "Marcella, I have told you not to say those things about me," she groaned out.

"You have threatened me—_not_ just _told_ me!"

"In which you do not listen!" Uno shouted back. She was very much tempted to stand up and hit Marcella but she knew she would cause a bruise on the older ballerina's eyes that wouldn't go away in time for the gala. Instead, she glared up at the girl and shouted, "Go away before I _really_ do something that you will later regret!"

Marcella's eyes narrowed and she leaned over to whisper into Uno's ear. "I will be watching you closely to see what witchcraft you will put on the Parisian faces tonight and then I will catch you and you will be in trouble."

"We'll see," Uno murmured back. "Now go away before I take my warning to action where my words will _really_ hurt."

A smirk formed on her lips and she pulled away then left. Uno took a deep breath to regain her pacing heart, clenched her fists to sooth her anger, and closed her eyes to rip the images of the ballerina out of her mind. She turned to see Meg frowning at her then noticing Charline had not moved; she still stared at her lap and a sulking expression.

"Are you alright, Charline?" Uno asked with true concern. "Surely you can't be taken down by a pathetic ballet rat with your hot American blood standing up to me." Meg giggled and Charline stifled a smirk.

"You're right," Charline said softly. She raised her head to see Uno frowning at her. "I shouldn't let that get to me. I have you and Meg as my friends as I should be thankful for that, alone."

Meg reached out and grasped Charline's hand in hers. "You are a wonderful person, Charline."

Charline's small smile brightened to a full grin. With a swift nod of her head, she turned back to Uno. "Yes. I have managed to get Uno Maxwell to care for somebody."

Uno's brows knitted brows knitted together as she felt entirely taken aback. "What?"

Charline giggled. "You were wondering if I was alright."

Uno closed her eyes and sighed. "Yeah well," she paused and turned to see Meg's charming smile. Uno stifled a small smile in return. "People change, I guess."

"About time," Charline retorted before lifting up her glass. Uno gaped at her and choked out a laugh.

"Charline!"

"Well somebody had to help you sooner or later," she retorted before taking a sip of her tea. Meg giggled at the little argument and a newly appearing Uno. Uno slouched in her seat and frowned.

"Ya' think ya' know somebody."

"Oh we're only just being friendly," Meg reached for Uno's hand and giggled.

"Yeah—that's what they all say until the truth is revealed," Uno snorted.

Meg frowned suddenly. "And what is the truth?"

"That they're planning something against you," Uno's eyes narrowed playfully at Meg, "some way to open you up publically rather than just personally."

Charline giggled and put her glass back down. She picked up her pastry and took a bite. Meg released Uno's hand and began eating when a thought struck her.

"Uno?"

"Hrm?" Uno took a bit of her pastry, finishing her second one.

"How can you move so easily?" Uno paused and glanced over at her in weary. "It's as if you do not wear a corset."

"I don't," Uno mumbled back. Meg gasped in alarm and Charline stared at Uno with her eyes wide. Uno swallowed her bite and reached for her tea. "Why constrain what I don't have to begin with?"

"It's only lady like," Meg explained with a soft voice.

Uno snorted at her comment and snorted when she heard Charline say, "It will make you appear more sinister if you are seen without one."

"Relax. It's only recently I've stopped wearing it," Uno retorted with a wave of her hand. "So you don't need to freak out about it. I'll wear one when I dance—I have to since I'm not dressing myself."

"Of course," Meg nodded, "which I must thank the maids then for they won't let you out of their sight without one."

"Please," Uno scoffed out. Charline coughed and covered her mouth. "It's not like you can even tell the difference, anyways. I don't have an inch of fat on my body whatsoever."

"Does Maman know?" Meg asked. She turned and frowned at Charline, who covered her mouth to try and hold back her coughs.

Uno frowned at Charline as well. "No, but she can't stop me—Charline are you alright?"

"I," Charline winced and her coughing became louder. "I can't… stop coughing!"

"Here—quickly drink some more," Meg reached over and grasped Charline's glass. She pushed it towards the American and greedily, Charline took it in her hands. Uno watched as she began drinking, never stopping as Meg instructed. She turned and glanced around the room to see all the other ballerinas were staring in their direction—

And La Marcella's eyes narrowed with a wry grin on her face.

"No!" Uno screamed out loud suddenly. She shot to her feet and slapped the glass out of Charline's hands. The ballerinas besides them shrieked and ripped away from their tables to clear away from the splashing drink.

"Uno!" Meg shot to her feet as well and stared at the braided girl across from her.

"Go get your mother!" Uno commanded. Meg stared blankly at Uno, watching as the girl comforted Charline in trying to stop choking. Charline's coughs got worse and suddenly small trickles of red began to seep through her fingers. Meg's eyes widened in fear and Uno's heart began beating rapidly.

"_Now!_" She roared out at Meg. Meg ran as fast as her thin body could take her and fled from the room. Uno tried to get Charline to sit up but the American kept shoving her away. More tricklets of red—of blood—began seeping out of her fingers.

"Charline," Uno gasped. Charline reached out for Uno's glass but Uno gripped her hand in return, not caring about the blood being smolded on her hands. "No—you can't drink anything!"

Several ballerinas began shrieking and fleeing from the café. La Marcella stood up casually and discarded her plate on the café countertop then left the room. As she passed by Uno she glanced at the scene with an ignorant air. Uno didn't pay any attention to the horrible snape and worried more about her friend, instead.

_I _knew_ this would happen_, she seethed mentally. _Whenever I make friends they get hurt for my sake!_

"Uno," Charline gasped out.

"Don't talk Charline," Uno told her forcively. "Blood's coming out of your mouth—don't talk."

Uno turned and glanced down at the scattered remains of the glass and the liquid that once flowed in it. Her eyes narrowed, seeing the sparkles of the tea shine up at her with more than one illusion.

"Papa was right," Charline breathed out. Uno turned to shush her but Charline didn't listen. "Said the French were stingy people."

Uno smirked. "I could have told you that," she scoffed out. "Now don't talk, Charline, please," she urged softer this time.

The doors to the café burst open and Madam Giry rushed to her side. Uno backed up and let the older woman inspect the sick American. She glanced back down at the tea and frowned, the illusion of the light reflecting back up still there.

_That looks like…it can't be…_

"Uno," Madam Giry called out, breaking Uno's train of thought. "I need you to find Clement for me. He should be in backstage working on the backdrops. I need him to carry Charline to the nurse's room."

"No," Uno snarled.

"Uno!" The woman stood and stared at her frantically. "Your friend is dying here. Show some compassion, I pray!"

"I am," she pushed the ballet mistress to the side. "By taking her there myself."

Uno knelt down and wrapped an arm around Charline's back then the other beneath her legs. She pulled Charline to her body then with a deep breath, pushed upwards. Charline appeared to weigh one-fifty but when Uno hoisted her up in her arms it turned out to be fifty pounds lighter. She curled Charline into her body then turned back to see Madam Giry staring at her in alarm.

"See what wonders you can do without a corset binded to your body?" Uno barked out before turning and fleeing from the café. "Now guide me to the nurse's room—you never mentioned where that was located."

After Uno burst through the nurse's room doors and laid Charline down on the awaiting bed Madam Giry rushed in behind her to watch. The older woman remained glued to the door where the nursemaid had backed away to. Charline's lips were coated in red and the blood was beginning to drip down the sides of her cheeks. Without thinking, Uno began unlacing Charline's dress to reach her corset.

"What are you doing?" The nursemaid asked in alarm.

"She has to be able to breathe," Uno rushed out. She pushed apart the layers of the dress then began untying the front of the corset. "It's bad enough she'll choke on her own blood if I don't sit her upright in time." Madam Giry raised her chin and took a deep breath. She was tempted to stand alongside the young ballerina and help but had a strong feeling Uno knew more about the sudden happenings and how to cure it than anyone else.

"I will fetch the doctor," said the nursemaid before turning.

"You will do no such thing!" Uno snapped back. "Go and get me a bucket!"

"But—"

Uno ripped herself away from Charline and spun around to snarl at the incompetent maid. "Every second you waste arguing with me about this steals another second of her life! The more I stand here and _yell_ at you the closer Charline comes to _dying_ and it will be _your_ conscious that holds her death!" Uno roared out at the top of her lungs, knowing very well that her voice was carrying through the walls and down the halls to be heard by all the other members of the staff.

"She needs the doctor!" The maid urged on.

"I know more about the poisons of ground glass and liquids than any _doctor_ of today would know for I had to study it in my youth as the Government's aid," Uno growled out. "_Now fetch me a bucket!_"

She turned back to Charline and dropped to her knees with a _thud_. Immediately, she removed a razor blade from the base of her braid and began slicing through the ribbons that laced the corset up tightly. Madam Giry shoved the nursemaid out into the halls and warned her about double crossing the ballerina. Hearing the urgency in the ballet mistress's voice the maid turned abruptly to find a bucket. When Madam Giry returned to the room she found Uno had stripped Charline down her bare body and was forcing the girl in an upright positin.

"Charline can you hear me?" Uno tried. She brushed a few stray hairs out of the young girl's eyes and frowned at the temperature of her fever. "Get me a bowl of water and a rag," she demanded. Madam Giry nodded and turned to leave.

Uno sighed. "Charline…"

"Uno," Charline gasped.

"Shh—don't speak." Charline gulped and cringed in pain. Uno closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath, the feelinga the dread washed over her even more.

_You knew and you disobeyed those orders of staying by yourself_, came Zero's scowlding words. _You caused this to happen._

"Go away," Uno seethed out softly. "I don't need you right now." She weaved the razor back into the base of her braid

Charline coughed again, this time erupting a bubble of blood with her breath. Uno popped the bubble and let it splatter against her face and hands as well as Charline's face and neck. She's had her body coated in blood before so she didn't care if a few stray droplets got on her now. Any normal girl from her era would fret about the blood pathogens and casualties of blood diseases but Uno wasn't normal; her immune system was upgraded so much that things like AIDs won't endanger her life.

-

Erik frowned at the flock of ballerina's scurring around in the halls. Normally at this hour they would be rehearsing on stage and preparing for the night's opening gala. He stayed hidden in the shadows, next to the exit of the main building to sneak back into the walls, and watched.

He strained to hear conversations but nothing came out full blown. Instead, he only received a few tidbits that only strengthened his curiosity.

"I heard she might die," Came the words of a petite redhead.

"She was coughing up blood—it was so horrifying!" Said a brunette with short, wavy hair.

"Uno is with her now," said a girl with thick black hair, "and I heard she had sent the nursemaid away and _not_ to call the doctor."

His brows knitted together. Somebody was coughing up blood and dying from it—but who? He saw Madam Giry step out of the crowd, whispering to a few to gather as many of the girls up and return to the dorms as possible. He noticed the stern gaze on her face that was mixed with alarm. When she turned down a corner that lead away from the crowd and towards the kitchen, he reached out and grasped her arm. She stopped and turned to her then stepped into the shadows to advert herself from any possible onlookers.

"What is this nonsense?" He asked darkly, referring to the herd of frightened girls. "What is going on?"

Madam Giry bowed her head and stared at the dark shadow before her, most likely towards his chest. "Charline is ill," she said softly. "Uno is with her as we speak, trying to sustain her, cease her coughing."

"What happened?"

"Meg told me nothing," She raised her gaze to stare into his beady eyes. "But the poor girl is coughing up blood and growing a fever fast—Erik, I do not think she will live."

His brows furrowed. "Coughing up blood and growing a fever?" He repeated in shock. She nodded and turned away. She swallowed hard, terrified at the sudden happenings of the day and at such an early time. Erik closed his eyes at the memory of when that once happened to him.

"It sounds as if ground glass is the cause of this," he murmured out.

The woman's head snapped up to meet his gaze. "That is what Uno murmured," she breathed out. "Ground glass fitted into Charline's tea."

Erik drew in a sharp breath. "Somebody here is trying to kill Charline."

The woman frowned. "But who? Why? Charline is an American, _allowed_ to _attend_ the corpse de ballet at the Opera Populaire. Why would anyone wish to harm her?"

"I don't know," Erik frowned over at the end of the hallway where the lining of ballerina's remained. "But I'm sure there's a perfectly excellent explanaition. Perhaps it was more meant for Uno, instead."

"Uno?"

Erik turned back to her and sighed. "Charline does not have enemies; Uno does."

"La Marcella," the woman breathed out. Erik nodded and narrowd his eyes.

"La Marcella is most likely the cause behind this." He watched Madam Giry as she stared down at her figeting fingers. Placing his hands on her shoulders to settle her nerves, he spoke in a low, calming tone.

"I will get to the bottom of this, Antoinette." She raised her head up to see his eyes glimmering with wickedness. "You tend to whatever Uno asks of you and I will make the cure for her."

"Is there a cure?"

Erik nodded his head. "It is an old Gypsy remedy but it is quite powerful," he explained. Suddenly, as if realization dawned on him all too late, he pulled his hands away from her shoulders. "You said Uno _knew_ it was ground glass?"

She raised her chin to try and control her weakening state. "Yes," Madam Giry said sternly. "Uno seems to know a lot of things."

"So it seems," he murmured through a growl. "But how can she know about poisons? Why would she need to learn it?"

The ballet mistress sighed and glanced down the hallway. "Uno had forced the nursemaid _not_ to call the doctor."

Erik nodded in agreement. "He will only make matters worse. She knows what she is doing."

"It appears so," the woman breathed out in a sigh, feeling her body relaxing after the sudden outburst of emotions in the nurse's room.

"Make certain Charline has enough room to breath and drinking as little water as possible."

Madam Giry nodded. "She has already stripped away Charline's dress and cut the laces of the corset to move faster. Uno _is_ a talented dancer."

Erik's eyes narrowed as he nodded his head. "That she is."

She took a deep breath and turned back to him. "Please Erik—we need that cure. The opening is tonight."

"You tend to her aid and I will do my best." He opened the door to his corridors then put his back to her as he began stepping into the walls. "Charline will be cured by late tomorrow evening."

-

When the ballet mistress returned with the bowl of water and the rag Uno was already working on rolling up her sleeves. Her dress sleeves were long and airy and although Uno had enough stolen money to buy a whole new set of dresses she didn't feel like staining her clothes just yet. If the need came, she would.

"Uno—are you sure you know the cause of this?" The older woman asked quietly. Uno turned her gaze away from Charline for a brief moment and began soaking up the rag. "Tell me what to do to help. She is, after all, one of my ballerinas."

"There's nothing you can do to help," Uno murmured. "Her tea was poisoned with ground glass." She drained the rag of excess water.

Madam Giry stared at her, clearly puzzled. "How do you know this?"

Uno turned back to Charline and dabbed the sweat from her forhead with the cold, damp rag. "When you were inspecting her I glanced down at the tea that spilt out of her glass. It sparkled up at me differently than it would if it was only tea."

The woman's brows knitted together and she clenched her chest with her left hand. "You saw the glass shards?"

"Unfortunately so," Uno replied. Charline's eyes were closed and the blood was dribbling out of her lips and down her body. Her corset was already stained, as was her dress.

"I know the symptoms when I see them," she added in, turning back to the bowl. "The ground glass is a common poison used in olden times, but it's supposed to be mixed with something thicker like wine," Uno explained as if it were a casual conversation. "Tea is too thin and only makes it easy to notice to experienced eyes."

"You know how to cure her?" Madam Giry's voice was unusually calm. Uno closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she released it, her words that came with it were shaky and uncertain.

"Yes but… I can't," she admitted sullenly.

Charline's pale face, heated body, and mild coughing brought Uno back into the present. She dabbed the wet rag around on the girl's forehead then down to her chin and neck to wipe away the excess blood. Uno swallowed hard against the pain stinging her throat and began trailing the damp rag down Charline's chest to wipe off the rest of the blood.

"You can't," came the ballet mistress's soft and airy voice. "Can you?"

"I don't have the cure," Uno replied just as sullenly. "It's possible for me to make it but I highly doubt I can find the needed ingredients in time with plenty left over to make it."

"Where do you find these… things?"

Uno sighed again. "Everywhere you can," she replied even softer than before. Suddenly, she cleared her throat and spoke louder. "It's a Gypsy remedy."

"You seem to know a lot."

"I told you why," she scoffed out. "I_ had_ to before I went to war."

"Uno," Madam Giry gasped, "have you told Charline?"

Uno pulled back and stared at Charline's face. Seeing the agonizing expression on the young girl's face and the closed, swollen eyes, told Uno all she needed to know. Charline's skin was pale and flustered at the same time. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed, but her forehead and chin were deathly white. There were beads of perspiration scattered all over and they were beginning to pool around her shoulders. Her lips were literally painted in the blood that spilled out of her mouth each time she coughed.

"She can't hear me," Uno replied. "And if she could she wouldn't remember this."

"Mama," Charline slurred out, "is Billy okay? Is he with you?"

Madam Giry clutched her chest with both hands and stared at Uno. Uno placed the rag on the floor besides her and frowned at her friend. She brushed the clammy hair out of Charline's face. The swollen eyes opened up to sparkle back at Uno with glazed over orbs.

Uno felt the few pastries she ate coming back up her throat.

"Yes," Uno choked out, tears of anger swelling in her own eyes. "Yes Billy is fine, Charline."

Charline sighed and Uno saw faint smile brush her lips. "Please don't let Billy take Rusty out to the park again," she purred out sweetly. "Rusty came close to getting hit by that wagon and Billy chased after him."

Uno bowed her head and patted her shoulder. "Billy and Rusty are fine, Charline." She could feel the older woman's gaze on her. "They are sleeping in the fields out back."

Charline closed her eyes and sighed again. "And tell Papa that I didn't let Mister Jordan take any of your pie, Mama. Papa was awefully worried there wouldn't be any left for him."

Uno stifled a smirk at her comment. "There's enough pie, Charline." She raised her head to see Charline in a whole new light. "There's enough to last the rest of the week."

-

Erik's eyes were burning with tears when he finally reached his lair. Normally he would curse the inhabitants of his staff but currently it was bothering him. It bothered him when somebody messed with his staff but he usually let it go, inclining that the said staff member was too weak to handle the job themselves.

But this staff member was capable of running the whole theater on her own _and_ still has plenty of time left over to sing out at night, in secret. She knew about the poisons of ground glass and what it can do and what was needed to cure it. She knew about perfecting her every step. And she probably knew that the poison was meant more for her rather than her friend.

He stepped off his gondola and ripped his cloak away from his body, not bothering to place it neatly on the ground. The tears in his eyes were not burning for his cast members, but for the one who was aiding the dying girl. What happened to him was happening to her. He once had enemies every turn he took until those enemies began fearing him. But now Uno meant a new enemy every turn _she_ took and instead of being the one taken down by the ground glass as he was, it her _friend_ who's getting the pain.

He reached his desk and began digging around in his drawers for an empty vial. He had to work fast. Madam Giry told him that Uno was already taking care of the symptoms but it was up to _him_ to produce the cure. He turned towards the wooden crate located in a crevice of his cave walls and withdrew it. Inside he found all the old ingredients he had once obtained throughout his years of exploration. With thanks to his Gypsy teachings, he knew how to create the right cure.

He picked out the few things he required and the mixing bowl then began grinding all the said items together. His eyes were blurred from his tears, which began to stroll down his face in a rush, but he didn't slow down one bit. Somebody needed his help and he was the only one who could produce the one thing they required. Normally he wouldn't care but he knew Uno would be devastated if Charline were to die.

_Yet why do I care?_ He berated. Erik turned to the box and picked out another item. _If she is devastated then she would be even weaker to take advantage of._

_No,_ he fought back mentally. _I want her to fall into my trap _normally_ rather than simply through depression._

He took a deep breath and could already smell the fumes of the concoction as he made it. He would just as easily let Uno fall into his trap as believing him to be a kind gentleman rather than the monster he was. She would learn he had made the cure and thank him, putting herself even deeper in debt to his obedience.

Erik turned back to the box to withdraw the final ingredient. When he began administering it to the mixing bowl, the scent of it rose up to his nostrils and filled him with his own sense of remorse. The scent was strong and made him cringe. It held dark memories of his past, a past he had enough of and wished to end forever.

It reminded him of his life in Persia.

"_It was an accident," he whispered up at the man who oddly resembled his old master though there was something different about him. The man wasn't his father but was every _thing_ his father would have been. "It was an accident... I didn't mean to make her fall... I didn't want you to see ...Oh, Father ... why did you make me do it... _why!_" Somebody placed a waterbottle next to his lips but instead of grasping it in need he grasped the arm that was handing me the bottle._

"_Give me back the mask!" he sobbed. "Give me back the mask and let me go home... I hate it here ... I hate this cage ... this filthy cage!"_

_After what felt like an eternity in air of Hell, for it felt like Hell because it was extremely dark and powerfully hot, he crawled along the floor and towards the bathing room. Blood was dripping out of his lips and spilling onto the ground. His cloak dragged behind him and his mask felt skewed out of place from the sweat covering his body. He reached the side of the great white marble bathtub and began wretching into it, filling it with the scarlet life that breathed oxygen into a man's body._

_Later he heard somebody come near him._

It's probably the woman who calls herself my mother_, he berated._

_He turned and saw her standing in the doorway but she looked different for some strange reason. He couldn't see why she looked different, but she did._

"_Where's Sacha?" he suddenly demanded with quiet fear. "_Where is she!_"_

"_She's here," she said with hesitance and a voice that sounded like a man's. "She's here, Erik, she's ... she's quite safe." He closed his eyes and reached to grab her arm._

"_Don't let her out tonight," he begged, twisting his fingers in her sleeve. "Promise me you won't let her out ... promise me!"_

"_I promise," she replied through her strangely masculine voice. The words calmed Erik down enough to let her lift him up and carry him towards his bed. When she raised him up in her arms he spared a glance and saw Nadir holding him. He frowned, wondering what happened to Madeline, to the woman who called herself his mother, but right as he opened his mouth to question he felt another wave of heat course through his body and send him spiraling into the darkness of a coma._

Erik coughed, bringing himself back into reality. He gasped when he realized he had dazed off. His hands were locked together on top of the desk and the vial was lying besides them. There was a cork locking the concoction in place and the bowl and mixing stump was pushed aside.

He pressed his lips together and cleaned up. After sliding the crate back into the crevice of the cave wall, he scanned the cure and nodded his appreciation it. Then he tucked the container away into a pocket on his jacket and returned to retrieve his cloak.

-

Madam Giry stopped when she saw the two beady eyes staring at her through the darkness. She bit her bottom lip and turned to glance around her surroundings. Seeing she was indeed alone, she stepped into the shadows and gazed up into the green eyes. Her hand was grabbed by a leather touch and then she felt something smoth being slid into her palm.

She frowned down at the vial. "Erik?"

"It is the cure for Charline's poison," Erik said in a hushed tone. Madam Giry stared up at him and took a deep breath. "Be sure Uno administers it accordingly. Take it all at once with water, mixed well, and not a drop left behind."

She nodded. "I will do just that."

Erik nodded in return and withdrew from holding her hand. "What is the rat doing?"

"Supporting her and trying to get her to drink a little bit of water," the older woman replied. "Erik… do you think Charline will survive this?"

Erik stood up tall and squared his shoulders back, as if being dared and challenged by an overpowering creature. "Yes," he said, his tone demanding and strict. "Just as long as this is given to her correctly."

She swallowed hard and nodded her head with dignity. "I will give the instructions to Uno. The nurse had returned with the bucket and Uno had instructed her to leave."

"The nurse would not understand what to do to administer aid," Erik said sharply. "Uno is correct in sending her away."

Madam Giry nodded. "The gala is arriving—I am having my ballerina's rehearse for the opening."

Erik nodded. "I will be watching and making sure she is taken care of."

"Yes," Madam Giry glanced away, "thank you."

She turned and returned towards the nursemaid's room, leaving Erik to stalk the shadows and watch the sick on his own. When she stepped into the room she found Uno was kneeling by the bed once again, the bucket placed between Charline's legs. Charline, who was sitting on the side of the bed, keeled over, was dressed in only a simple robe, her dress and garments tossed aside to give her more room, and the corset lying just besides it. Madam Giry gathered the clothing in her hands and frowned down at the stains.

"Charline will need new clothes," Uno murmured. "Those are covered in blood or stained in sweat."

"You cannot remove those stains?" Madam Giry sounded stunned.

"I can," Uno retorted turning to the woman across the room, "but not without the supplies that are created in a few hundred years."

She nodded and placed the bundled up clothes on the chair. Madam Giry stepped up to Uno and extended her hand which held the vial. Uno frowned at it before reaching up to grasp it. After she lowered her hand, Uno inspected the concoction closer.

"It is the cure," she stated.

"I see that," Uno murmured before looking back up. "But where'd you get it?"

Madam Giry raised her chin. "I know of a man who has the ability to create such things. I told him what happened and he knew precisely what was needed."

Uno stifled a smirk. "Thanks."

Madam Giry nodded and watched as Uno mixed it into the water bottle. "You know what you are doing, I assume?"

Uno nodded. "Mix it well with water," she paused and plugged the opening of the waterbottle the palm of her hand then began shaking it, "and make sure she drinks every last droplet."

The older woman nodded. "That is right." She watched as Uno wrapped Charline's fingers around the bottle and raised it up to the parched, yet painted lips.

"Charline sweetie," Uno purred softly, "you need to drink this. It will help your sore throat go away."

Charline frowned. "Do I hafta' Mama?" Charline croaked out. Madam Giry glanced at Uno in aw. "But my throat hurts too much."

Uno nodded her head and smiled faintly when Charline opened her eyes to stare down at her. "Yes Honey, you need too. If you don't, I won't let you watch Billy and Rusty play anymore."

Charline frowned. "But… I like watching them, Mama. I really do."

Uno stroked Charline's cheek. "Drink it then. And don't trick me into thinking you drank it all and stole some for later." Uno helped Charline tip the bottle back. "Drink it all down. It may taste bad but it's good for you."

Madam Giry stifled a small smile while she watched Uno play the part of Charline's mother and aid her through drinking Erik's concoction. She didn't let Charline pull away one bit and instead, pushed her further until she was certain each drop was drunk. Finally, Uno pulled the bottle away and placed it on the floor calmly. She turned back to brush Charline's cheek softly and wipe the dribbled water and blood away.

"It," Charline paused to cough and Uno let the rag wipe up the blood that came out with it, "hurt," she finished out in a raggedy breath. "It hurt, Mama." She closed her eyes as the pain of the light began to burn.

"Shh," Uno placed the rag down. "I know it hurt, sweetie. But right now," Uno raised herself on her knees and began gently pushing Charline to lie onto her back, "right now you need to take a small nap."

"Can Rusty stay with me, Mama?" Charline whimpered out.

"Yes Charline," Uno replied. "I'll have Billy go bring Rusty to you."

Charline smiled and sighed. "I love you, Mama," she breathed out.

Uno smile weakly and continued to brush the stray hairs out of her friend's face. The way Charline looked as the coma took over her conscious made her face appear almost identical to Theresa's. They both shared the same slack formation, the same stern jawlines, and the same soft skin. If she wasn't careful, she'd almost take her to be Theresa.

Uno leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Charline's forhead. She forgot she wasn't alone in the room and didn't realize the older woman remained until she pulled away.

"Uno," Madam Giry whispered, "is she…?"

"No," Uno answered her just as equally. "No she's just in a coma."

"You knew it was going to happen?"

Uno sighed and sat back on her haunches. With a swift nod of her head, she turned away from Charline and up at the ballet mistress. "It's a side affect. That's why I was so pleased your friend had the talent to produce the cure so quickly. There's only so much time you'd have before the body gave up and lost to the fever."

"She will live?"

"Thank God," Uno murmured in a sigh of relief. She put the bed to her back and stretched her legs out in front of herself. "If she didn't get the cure in time that would have been the last time she'd ever speak."

Madam Giry frowned. "It's impossible to survive ground glass poisoning without a cure?"

"No… just highly unlikely," Uno explained. "Usually the person becomes aneroxic or too weak to take care of anything else and they become terrified to eat food, thinking it would still hurt. Very seldom if the case happens, they return to normal. But if their immune system is capable of helping it does—which makes them prone to_ other_ inflictions."

"You know what you're doing."

"I had to," Uno retorted. "I told you that. I've studied as many things as I could but I rather dislike ground glass and other medieval poisons. I guess you can say I find it is a rather crude torture; not a form of death I find ... _aesthetically _pleasing."

Madam Giry nodded. "Are you ready for tonight?"

She snorted at that comment. "When am I not?"

The woman nodded once again. "In an hour I will need you in the dressing rooms."

"I don't know why," Uno said casually. She ignored the puzzled glance from the ballet mistress. "I'm not dancing tonight."

"But Uno," she gasped, "you must! You and Meg are dancing a duet!"

"Well good—then Meg can dance a solo," she bit back sarcastically.

"Uno—"

Uno shot to her feet in an instant and snarled at her. "My friend in pain over here and you expect me to dance? While my friend is _dying_ you wish for me to play?"

Madam Giry put a hand up in the air to calm the enraged ballerina. "Uno, please listen to me—"

"_No, you listen to me_," Uno roared out. "My friend is dying over here because somebody tried to kill _me_! I will _not_ go and dance for this theater's ballet while my friend could still die. Just because she had been given the cure _doesn't_ mean she'll survive!"

Madam Giry stood aghast. "How do you know that was meant for you?"

"As I said," Uno growled out, her eyes narrowed and her teeth grinding together, "Charline is a normal, American girl where as _I_ have La Marcella as an enemy."

"You think Marcella was trying to kill you?" Madam Giry murmured out.

Uno crossed her arms over her chest. "If she wasn't I don't have a reason for anyone else to poison somebody close to me," she explained with a cocky air. "And if you're worried about the gala just have Meg dance alone—since our part isn't a connected scene and she can have the full circle to dance. Or give all the antendee's a refund."

Madam Giry pressed her lips together and raised her chin. "I will deliver your message to the managers. They will be worrying about their act."

"Then they aren't good managers," Uno scoffed out with a snort. "They should care about their staff rather than their greedy pay."

She nodded. "Would you like for me to have a bed delivered in here?"

"No," Uno turned away to stare down at Charline's frail body. She sighed and took a seat on the bed besides her body. "No but thank's for asking."

The woman nodded then turned away. "I will be back shortly to check up on you."

"Send the nurse away," Uno demanded. She turned away from Charline to see Madam Giry frowning at her. "All that woman does is make me angry."

"Will do."

"Good," Uno returned to her sick friend. "Give Meg my luck."

-

Erik watched as Uno mixed the concoction with water and talk to Madam Giry. He had to admit, the young ballerina had enough courage to mess with even the dirtiest of poisons. She didn't cower down from blood, she didn't panic when a disease was evident, and she didn't take no for an answer when she wanted things done her way and her way alone.

He watched as she wrapped the sick girl's fingers around the bottle and lifted it to her lips. Erik smirked, appreciating Uno all the more. She had strength and willpower to do what was needed without a second to waste. Whereas other girls wouldn't know the first thing about ground glass and seek the aid of the doctor, Uno got right to the point and became the leader, throwing the rules around as commands and telling everyone what was needed.

She had power and it could prove to be a problem unless Erik found the backdoor so he could pour salt on the wound.

"Charline sweetie," Uno purred softly, "you need to drink this. It will help your sore throat go away."

Charline frowned. "Do I hafta' Mama?" Charline croaked out. "But my throat hurts too much."

Erik's mouth gaped open as he stared in aw. Uno was so careful with Charline. It was as if she was handleing a butterfly and a simple jerk could rip the wings away. She had treated Charline as kindly as a mother would to a babe.

And according to what Charline was thinking, it _was_.

"Yes Honey, you need too. If you don't, I won't let you watch Billy and Rusty play anymore."

Charline sulked. "But… I like watching them, Mama. I really do."

Uno stroked Charline's cheek. "Drink it then. And don't trick me into thinking you drank it all and stole some for later." Uno helped Charline tip the bottle back. "Drink it all down. It may taste bad but it's good for you."

Erik smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. _Uno… you are a Goddess_, he summed up mentally. _You appear dangerous and loathsome but alone with your dying friend you become a harmless creature._

"It," Charline paused to cough and Uno let the rag wipe up the blood that came out with it, "hurt," she finished out in a raggedy breath. "It hurt, Mama." Uno continued to shush her as a mother would to a child who was ready to go to bed.

"Shh," Uno placed the rag down. "I know it hurt, sweetie. But right now," Uno began pushing Charline down to the bed, "right now you need to take a small nap."

"Can Rusty stay with me, Mama?" Charline whispered.

"Yes Charline," Uno replied in a hushed tone. "I'll have Billy go bring Rusty to you."

Charline breathed out a sigh. "I love you, Mama."

Erik felt a muscle twitch in his jaw and he turned away after watching Uno plant a kiss on her forehead. He lowered his arms to the sides and balled his fists. Uno was so caring to her friend and only two weeks ago she refused to appear friendly on the outside. It was as if Charline's kindness was beginning to rub off.

"Uno," Madam Giry whispered, "is she…?"

"No," Uno answered her just as equally. Erik turned back to watch. "No she's just in a coma."

"You knew it was going to happen?"

Uno nodded and turned away from the girl. "It's a side affect. That's why I was so pleased your friend had the talent to produce the cure so quickly. There's only so much time you'd have before the body gave up and lost to the fever."

Erik smirked. _You seem to know what you're doing, Uno._

"She will live?"

"Thank God," Uno breathed out. She collapsed against the side of the bed. "If she didn't get the cure in time that would have been the last time she'd ever speak."

"It's impossible to survive ground glass poisoning without a cure?"

"No… just highly unlikely," Uno explained. "Usually the person becomes aneroxic or too weak to take care of anything else and they become terrified to eat food, thinking it would still hurt. Very seldom if the case happens, they return to normal. But if their immune system is capable of helping it does—which makes them prone to_ other_ inflictions."

"You know what you're doing."

"I had to," Uno retorted. "I told you that. I've studied as many things as I could but I rather dislike ground glass and other medieval poisons. I guess you can say I find it is a rather crude torture; not a form of death I find ... _aesthetically _pleasing."

Erik grinned, remembering a time once in his life where he had said the same words to Nadir in Persia.

"_The wine," Nadir said dully, staring at the blood streaking the sides of the great white marble bath. "How many times have I warned you to employ a taster? Where are your servants?"_

"_I sent them away," he gasped. "And now if you don't mind ... I should prefer to conduct my final performance without an audience... ask nicely and I'm sure they'll give you your money back at the door!"_

_Erik turned his face away and was convulsed once more by the agonized retching that seemed as though it would tear him apart. A little blood splashed up on Nadir's hand as he reached out helplessly to hold the sick man steady._

"_Go away!" Erik panted, "I don't want you here ... I don't want anyone..."_

"_Stop wasting your strength," Nadir ordered shortly. "Do you have any idea what you may have taken?"_

"_No," he muttered, "I've made no study ... of your crude Persian toxins ... I don't make a habit ... of poisoning people as a rule. It's not a form of death I find ... _aesthetically_ pleasing."_

"_Ground glass would account for the internal bleeding," Nadir said grimly. "There are various substances with which it could have been combined. Most of them produce a protracted and agonizing death."_

"_How long?" he enquired shortly._

"_Those who are lucky die within forty-eight hours, but I have known a strong man to linger up to ten days."_

Erik turned away to retreat to his lair to continue his music. He wasn't need anymore, as his services that were once required had already been finished. He knew Uno could handle the rest and knew Madam Giry would aid her every step of the way. He _would_ go to his box and wait for the opening but he had a strong feeling Uno would stay behind and tend to her friend's need.

* * *

**Hehehe... made ya think of Uno, eh? (winks) I know I did when I read his responses. The two of them area like... just wait until you catch up on the following chapters... Uno get's a hint at where her personalities come from.**


	19. Mistress Of Vengeance

**Okay well... yeah... I updated finally... it took me a while to add in more text to this chapter. 17 Pages now... enjoy and don't worry about being confused by the top part... even those who know Duo's Child 1 will be confused.

* * *

- Chapter Nineteen -**

"Turok—given the chances, do you think Pinn would make for an excellent experiment?"

Turok frowned and glanced over at his brother as they strolled down the hallways of the Technology Wing in the Blassimeer Manor base. The grim expression on his brother's face had him feeling mildy concerned, weary of what thoughts Morris had going through his mind.

"Why are you asking?" Turok countered. "Doctor Pinn is a blood thirsty scientist—I'm surprised he hasn't tried to chop up Trixie, yet."

Turok was lithe but still showed a firm set of muscles. Around the sides of his head was cleanly shaven brown hair whereas the top of his head had enough hair to hide it; the only time one would see that he had a long-hair crewcut would be if wind were to blow in his direction. Even if his hair was hanging in his face his pointed, elf ears were quite visible. His eyes were as black as the night, making his pupils appear rather large.

Alongside him was Morris, a guy who had the same structure as Turok but he had more muscle than he had of a lithe form. His long hair was raggedy just like his brothers but instead of his brother's brown hair, it was a strawberry brown with red highlights in it. His eyes, on the other hand, were just the same; his pupils looked awefully large. His ears stood out much longer than Turok's elvish ears and when Morris's hair would blow it would be even more visible than ever.

Morris snorted. "He _can't_ chop up Trixie no matter how much he wishes—the bloody girl's a temptress of fire."

Turok nodded in agreement and felt a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "That's for damn sure," he remarked. "But I wouldn't be as terrified of seeing Pinn one of us as I would Aztec. That man has several problems wrong with him and I'm not just referring to his ideas of humanoid mobile suits."

"Humanoid mobile suits," Morris snorted. "The only thing Aztec is good for is what _ideas_ he has. Pinn, as well. The both of them can suck my dick when it comes to fighting because they don't know shit about war."

"I agree with that," Turok retorted. "They're both amatures who trust the wrong people. They left their files into Blassimeer's hands and Blassimeer is planning to kill them now that he has us. They created some of the Earth Sphere's _worst_ ideas and they can't control it now—example, Trixie." Morris nodded and stepped through a doorway that exited the Technology Wing and entered the Military Wing. "That firefly has a problem with setting things on fire—though what can she do about it? They never put a fan in her processor so she overheats too much."

"You say the wrong thing, piss her off, and next you know you're covered in fire with a bitch glaring down at you," Morris added in with a nod. "Yes they definitely fucked up in the formula of Trixie."

Turok glanced over to where several soldiers were marching by, exiting one of the Security Rooms, and reloading their weapons from the Weapon Rooms. He smirked, knowing well enough that the mission they were sent on would be their last.

"Have you been to the Solar Shuttle Base on Venus, yet?"

Morris's brows knitted together. "The new base—no, what about it?"

Turok nodded and stared at the hallway before them, forgetting about the innocence of the new recruits preparing for battle. Behind him, several noises of locking rang out, one of which sounded as if the soldier had broken the rifle. Turok smirked, knowing the future before it even began to happen.

"There's a mission on it."

Morris's gaze snapped to his brother's direction. "Already? That base was just built!"

Turok nodded. "I know."

"Then what's going on?"

"Well," Turok paused to shrug off the topic with an air of disgust, "Blassimeer _believes_ that the Solar Shuttle Base will attract possible attempts of peace—and he wants to be the one to set pease on the nations."

"That's why we were created," Morris muttered out, rolling his eyes as the words rolled off his tongue. He imitated the speech Doctor Aztec gave the two of them only several days before. "We are to annihilate most of humanity if they don't pay attention to our threats to achieve peace in a way _we_ feel is best."

Turok smirked and glanced over at his brother. "Not a bad imitation, Morris. Try adding in a little bit of the bad accent and the horrible smell and you'll have him."

"Fuck you," Morris scoffed out, "you fucking battle program."

"Battle _stragety_ program," Turok corrected. "Get it right."

Morris rolled his eyes. "Oh forgive me—at least _I'm_ not the one who was created to take over the minds of innocent civilians and possess people in order to obtain peace."

"No—you were just the one who was made to be perfect—albeit cocky, while at it."

Morris nodded. "Damn straight."

Turok narrowed his eyes and glared his brother. "Asshole," he murmured out negatively, "I hate acers like you."

"Why—cuz we're the only ones who can compete against you?" Morris asked, a huge grin playing on his lips.

"No," Turok replied calmly. "Because what you _do_ succeed in doing you enjoy rubbing in. You rely on tools like me to get you far, so basically _you_ get all the credit when the programs like _me_ only get the upgrades."

---

A touch to Uno's head startled her. Her head jerked up and she gazed around at her surroundings, forgetting where she was. She frowned when she saw Charline sitting up and patting Uno on the head. Uno forgot she was sitting on the ground, resting her head on the bed besides the sick girl.

"What are you doing here?" Charline said softly, her voice scratchy but at least not broken down with coughing.

"How do you feel?" Uno asked in return.

Charline smiled and sat back on her elbows. "I feel well but my throat is sore." She frowned all of a sudden and tilted her head to the side. "What happened?"

"Somebody poisoned your tea yesterday morning," Uno explained. She pushed back to sit on her haunches. "I have a guess of who it was and why but no proof just yet."

Charline stared at the bed. "The last I recall I was coughing and Meg and you were chanting away."

Uno sighed and glanced down at her lap. "Yeah you coughed up blood," she said softly. She felt Charline's frightened gaze on her. "I don't know who but Madam Giry had a friend prepare the cure for you."

"How did I get here?" She whispered. Uno glanced up into her slightly shaded eyes.

"I carried you here. I sent the nurse away and demanded her _not_ to fetch the doctor. I knew what needed to be done to save your life."

Charline stifled a weak smile. "Thank you, Uno." Uno glanced down at her lap again. "You saved my life."

"If Madam Giry's friend hadn't made the cure you wouldn't have survived," she explained. "I know how to make it but you can't find the ingredients and prepare the concoction in the time I needed. I don't know how he did it, but I thank him."

Charline smiled. "As do I." Uno sighed and glanced away, wanting to avoid eye contact. "So how was the gala?"

_That_ caught her attention.

Uno frowned up at her friend. "I wouldn't know."

Charline's stared at her in confusion. "Of course you would, Uno. You and Meg danced a duet."

Uno shook her head. "No I stayed by your side."

Charline's mouth gaped open. "You… stayed with me?"

"I told Madam Giry to have Meg dance alone or refund the whole house. I would _not_ leave your side."

"But… why?" She almost breathed out.

Uno bit her bottom lip and hung her head in slight shame. "You're my friend," she murmured out. "I don't leave friends who are dying, Charline."

"I'm your friend?" Charline sounded stunned. When Uno returned her gaze she found there were tears in her eyes. "You consider me a friend?" Uno simply nodded. "I feel honored."

"You shouldn't," Uno retorted. She glanced down at her lap. "The poison was meant for me and you got it instead."

"But if you had gotten it then you would have died because nobody else would have known what to do," Charline explained sweetly. "What you did for me."

Uno frowned up at her and had to stiffle a small smile. Charline was so alive and brimming with happiness that it made Uno feel like an innocent kid again.

"Yeah," Uno returned just as sweetly. "But at least you're alive."

Charline nodded. "I feel much better."

"Good," Uno stood up, "because now I can leave your side."

Charline frowned. "You never once left my side?"

Uno winced as her body ached. "No and I doubt my bladder can hold anymore."

Charline giggled behind a hand. "You're quite the bluffer."

"You'd think that," Uno retorted with sarcasm. "But I really _did_ stay by you the whole time."

"Well I thank you," Charline laid back.

Uno nodded and shot an accusing finger in her direction. "You're still not ready to move much. Stay where you are until tomorrow. I'll be back later to help you."

Charline nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Uno rolled her eyes and ignored the giggle. She left the room and headed for the dorms. On the way she took the time alone to contemplate her dream. What was Zero trying to tell her? She didn't know who Turok or Morris was and she's never dreamed like that before. It took place in the Winner Mansion, but it was called the Blassimeer Manor—which was what the Winner Mansion was called before Quatre's dad inherited it.

But what did it mean?

Uno climbed the staircase to the dorms then headed towards the dresser. After she picked out another dress she turned around and found La Marcella and the circle of whores on the other side of the room, staring at her. Uno raised her chin and took a deep breath. She closed the gap between the two and knitted her brows together.

"Keep in mind," Uno growled, "that the next time you attempt to poison somebody you poison the _right_ person."

Marcella gave her a sneer in return. "What makes you think I was trying to poison _you_?"

"Well," Uno glanced around at her friends, "what need have you to kill Charline when you say I'm the witch."

Marcella narrowed her eyes. "You both deserve to die. You _both_ are witches and Satan will put you where you belong when you return to him!"

Uno drew back and slapped Marcella clear across her face. She didn't bother to curl her fists this time; rather, she purely gave the girl a feminine hit.

"Take note, Marcella; you don't know where I grew up and what I was taught!"

Marcella held her burning cheek in her hand and glared Uno in return. "I hope you go to Hell when you die," she seethed out.

"For all I care _you_ will be going there in the next few minutes," Uno growled. "My friend dies while you play princess! My friend _dies_ while you taunt the masses with your filthy body! _My friend _dies_ while you stroke yourself in public and raid men's pockets for cheap sex!_" The girl's gasped and Marcella gaped at Uno in shock but the enraged ballerina didn't stop there.

"If I were you, La Marcella, I'd watch my back closer than ever. You never know what kind of seasoning may contaminate your food someday."

Marcella narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Ya' never know," Uno replied with a grin. "After all, I caught the ground glass in her tea before you had a chance to breath. The second I saw the blood coming out of her fingers I knew what kind of poison you gave her."

"You didn't know it was me," Marcella spat.

"I do now," Uno returned. Marcella gasped and Uno pulled back with a smirk. "And yes I did, Marcella. When my friend starts to hack and everyone is staring in shock whereas you stare with a glare, it tells me you had something to do with it."

Without another word Uno turned away and headed for the stairs. She stopped when one of the other ballerinas put their hands on the staircase banister.

"Is she really dying?" The brunette asked in mild shock.

Uno's glare never faultered as she stared menacingly into Marcella's eyes. "She almost had," she returned, her voice dripping with pure, enraged anger.

"Is she alright now?" Came the words of the redhead.

Uno took a deep breath. "Be thankful that I know my medical studies because if I hadn't, _all_ of you would be sent out to the streets."

"You can't kick us out of the Opera Populaire," Marcella growled back.

"No," Uno smirked suddenly. "But I'm sure once the owner finds out you will be."

That wiped the look off her face.

"In the words of Shakespeare," Uno began, "'by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'"

-

When Uno returned to the dorms after her bath she found she was alone. She stepped up to her dresser and began removing clothes to take out for Charline. The girl would be capable of returning to the stage by the next day but she couldn't go waltzing around the theater with just a robe on.

"Uno," the voice of Madam Giry sounded in the silent room. Uno turned around and nodded at the ballet mistress.

"Charline's doing better," Uno explained. She shut the drawer then turned entirely to face the older woman. "I'm getting her some clothes."

The woman nodded. "I have something for you, Uno." She extended her hand and grasped in it was a small book. "You have helped this theater more than you know. Your absence last night made Meg become a famous dancer, your touch of cure has helped Charline, and your words of efficiency have hit the managers hard."

Uno took the book and frowned down at it. "I didn't do anything for Charline but bring her pain."

"She told me you have considered her a friend."

"Yeah," Uno murmured. She flipped through several pages and found each one blank. "But now she's in danger even more because of that."

"It's a journal," the woman turned towards the book with a swift change of topic. "I figure you may wish to record the days incase you ever find your way home."

"Either that," Uno paused and glanced up at the ballet mistress, "deliver the book to where I know Justin will someday find it."

Madam Giry nodded. "Hide it for I know Marcella will try and get her hands on it."

"Her loss then," Uno shrugged off. She stuffed the book under her pillow then turned back to the woman before her. "Later tonight I'll put it in a better place."

The woman nodded. "Very well."

"Where did you buy it?"

"There is a bookstore down a few streets from here," she explained to the young ballerina. "You appear interested."

Uno nodded. "Yeah—I haven't read a good book in some time."

"Well I will let you tend to Charline's needs."

-

The midnight air was cool against her skin. Dressed in her deep blue, velvet dress and black cloak, Uno took refuge in the dark atmosphere of the rooftop once again. Clutched tightly in her hands was the journal Madam Giry had bought for her. Without bothering to look up, Uno kept her nose in the book, reviewing everything she recently wrote down while watching Charline sleep, and stepped closer towards the edge. On print the words were coded in a language that won't be discovered for at _least_ a hundred years but in her mind she could read it as if it were English. She had used up half the book already, writing down what had happened since she arrived in this world to the point where Charline was cured with Gypsy remedies from an unknown savior.

She had a strong feel she would have several books by this time next year.

"I would watch where you step before you tumble over the egde." Uno's gaze snapped up when she heard the familiar, dark voice. She turned towards her left and found Erik leaning agains the heavy steed of Apollo. He was staring at her through narrow slits of his eyes, his white mask shining the bright moonlight in full rays.

"I didn't expect you to be out here," she stammered out. "I figured at midnight this place would be empty."

Erik bowed his head and turned towards her. "It usually is. There are often times I wish to get away from the world and I find this is the best place to do such."

She smirked. "I discovered that, as well."

His eyes shifted to the book in her hands. "You are interested in…?"

She glanced down at the book before closing it and wrapping her arms around it in a hug. "It's my journal. Madam Giry felt it best that I record my actions here in Paris for whenever I… go home."

Erik nodded in understanding at that and Uno felt a cold shiver run down her spine for extending the lie even more. "I'm sure there is a lot you have to catch up on. You have been here for—a month is it?"

She shrugged and glanced out at the scenery. "Something like that. Coming up to two, I believe."

He nodded. "All Hallows Eve is next week."

She snapped her gaze in his direction. "Next week!" Uno's mouth dropped. "Halloween is _next_ week?"

His brows knitted together in weary. "The Friday of next week—yes."

"Oh my God," Uno turned and stared out at the scenery once again. "Oh my God—oh my God."

_Oh my God it's about fucking time!_

Erik frowned. "I do not believe God will appreciate you damning him so often." Uno turned and sneered at his comment. In return, he stared innocently at her, blinking in pure innocent confusion. "You do not believe God hears everything and works for and against prayers?"

She snorted. "God doesn't work to prayers."

"Of course he does," Erik retorted. "He answers _all_ prayers—depending on whether or not he choses to listen to you." The final bit he had trailed off and turned away, as if in a sneer, as well.

"Please," Uno snorted, "tell that to the sixty-thousand I ki—"

She shut up before anything more could be said.

Erik turned to her with a frown. "Excuse me?" He asked, his voice rising to curiosity.

Uno waved her hand in the air to dismiss the topic. "Nothing—thinking aloud."

Erik tilted his chin upward and frowned. He stared at her in another approach and Uno felt as if she were in the spotlight. She was tempted to tell him off, let him know that he couldn't judge people by their approaches, but being a patron of the Opera Populaire she knew she would be in trouble for making the theater lose money.

Plus… she didn't want to be kicked out if the owner found out.

"How is your friend?" Uno turned to him with a frown. "Last I heard she was poisoned with ground glass."

She nodded. "Yes—that's right." Her eyes narrowed. "How did you know?"

Erik nodded and turned away. "I take it, according to your being out here on the rooftop, that she is well, now?"

Uno turned her head to the side as the gears in her mind wound up quicker. "You were the friend Madam Giry had… the friend who made the cure," Uno murmured out. "Aren't you?"

He smirked and leaned against the statue once more. "It's an old hobby of mine, Gypsy tactics. It's a hobby that I haven't used in several years." He frowned suddenly. "It felt good to reuse what I learned in my childhood, for a change."

Uno smirked. "I know what you mean."

And by God did she!

"And thanks," Uno added in. He turned to face her with his normal glance. "Without the cure she wouldn't have survived and I _know_ I wouldn't have had the time to hunt down all the ingredients and still have the time to mix them all together."

He frowned. "You know Gyspy cures?"

Uno sighed and turned away, putting her back to him. She hugged her diary to her chest and stared down at the ground. With a pout, she felt the pains stabbing her in the chest but with years of pent up anger, she managed to subdue the dread.

"I read a lot of different books written by a lot of different people," she explained. "One of which were medieval tortures."

Erik nodded. "Indeed ground glass is. However—I wonder why you would be fancied by tortures."

She spun around and hid behind the famous, Maxwell-trait smile. "Oh—it was on one of my father's bookshelves and I randomly picked up a book to read one day. I didn't know what it was and even though I should have turned away, I pushed myself to read on, for fear that incase something happened I would know how to fight back."

_Though I just didn't say _which_ father and _why_ I forced myself to read the said book,_ she added in mentally.

Erik nodded, as if accepting her lie. "I can see it was put to good use."

Uno bit her bottom lip and turned away. She could feel the stain in her cheeks and prayed he couldn't see it. Although it was dark and she was practically hidden in the shadows, she knew there were _always_ those gifted people, granted special abilities from birth.

For all she knew Erik could see in the dark—since that's also the only time she's ever seen him around.

"I should go," she shot out before it got later than she intended. "There is another show tomorrow night and I know Madam Giry would wish for me to attend, this time."

Erik bowed his head. "I have heard you didn't attend the last one but I do not blame you. I would have stayed behind should my friend need my aid, as well."

Uno stifled a smile and curtsied. "Thanks, once again, for the cure."

He smirked. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle Maxwell. Sleep well."

"You too," Uno returned equally, "Monsieur Erik."

-

"Uno," said a soft voice, "you were wonderful tonight."

Uno turned and found Christine smiling at her. With a smile of her own, Uno curtsied and bowed her head. "Why thank you, Viscountess Christine de Chagny."

Christine blushed. "Please don't do that, Uno. It bothers me when people refer to me in ways I am not."

Uno frowned at her. "But I can't refer you as a common girl anymore if you're married to the Viscount. Surely you understand that, as a lowly commoner, one must treat the upper class with a sense of dignity unlike any other."

Christine frowned. "Uno please…"

"Now unless you were royalty in its self, I have the ability to look you in the eyes and stand my full height. If you _were_ royality I would have to bow to you and signify my very essence to you."

Christine looked down, saddened by Uno's words.

"But if you would excuse me, Viscountess Christine de Changy, I must return to the dormitories and prepare for the night. We are given a break before audition for the next show and I would like to get some well needed rest before starting it." Uno curtsied then turned to go. As she turned she noticed Christine's painful expression and smirked. Only when her back was turned did Uno allow her grin to form.

_Maybe now you'll learn that being high class isn't all fun and games._

-

It had been several days since Charline was ill and healed quite well. The final showing of the play was a big hit and Uno and Meg became the most talented dancers the Opera Populaire has ever seen. Madam Giry was rather pleased with the work of the duet and the managers made it known to have more shows of the idea. Christine, how often rare it was to see her around Uno, was slightly shier than usual and when asked by Meg she would just say she was jealous of Uno's talents and misses dancing.

Uno knew the truth of her shyiness; she made Christine feel like a worthless snob.

Uno found out that for New Years there would be a Masquerade Ball and she was invited to go to it. She didn't wish to go; however, Meg had insisted she attend or be labeled a recluse who would prefer to remain a lowly commoner rather than ascend the steps of success. Unfortunately, now she would have to come up with a reasonable dress.

The few patrons and the managers had a meeting the night following the closure of the play and decided to have a short ball, similar to the Masquerade Ball but less showy. She found out from Charline, a well known eavesdropper on the gossiping corpse de ballet rats, that it was to be of high class attire—royality, Uno summed up—and each famous staff member of the theater would attend. Meg would join, Madam Giry, of course, would be there, La Carlotta, the diva, would be there, and even the de Chagny's, since Raoul was the patron.

_Thank God I'm not forced to go,_ she said to herself silently when she found out about it from Charline. _I'd rather not show them Queen Maxwell._

And now it was early morning and Uno was sitting in the dressing room straightening up from the previous night. She opened her top drawer to place her hairbrush inside and paused. Inside she found another object she hasn't seen in quit a while. Placing the hairbrush back onto the top of the vanity table, Uno lifted up the rose and white envelope. The rose had its thorns exposed and she had to stifle a smirk.

_Perhaps he finally realized that the flower looks better when it's being protected._

She removed the letter from inside after placing the rose on the vanity and read its contents.

_Mademoiselle Maxwell, I believe you will like this rose much better than the last, seeing as I have kept the thorns in tact. If I remember correctly, you stated the rose looked more beautiful to you with its thorns than bare._

_I am informing you on my appreciation of the gala. You and Meg proved to be remarkable dancers, both shining brightly with talent and an array of beauty. I greatly enjoyed watching as the two of you dances gracefully on stage._

_I have heard of your friend's illness and I am greatly pleased that she is doing much better. I will look into the reason for her poison and deal with it myself; you need not worry. I also admire your courage to stand up to the Ballet Mistress, regarding the duet. No ordinary girl would stay by her friend's side and ignore her duties as a ballerina, especially one who works under Madam Giry's presence._

_You have such talent and a strong belief. Women like you are rare these days._

_The next audition comes soon and I can't wait to attend it. I'm certain you will shock everyone this time, more than you had the previous times._

_Forever your obedient servant,_

_O.G._

Uno lowered the note and stared at herself through the mirror. The contents somewhat frightened her, seeing as it discussed the happenings that not many people have heard about. How did he know she liked the rose with the thorns in tact? How did he know she stayed by Charline's side throughout the dance? How did he know she fought Madam Giry with a strong belief?

How did he know _any_ of it!

She shook her head and stuffed the letter back into the envelope. "Too many questions," Uno muttered beneath her breath. "And too little answers."

She tucked the white envelope back into the drawer of her vanity and layed the rose on top of it. Putting her hairbrush into another drawer, Uno finished straightening up. The letter's contents were still in her mind's eye, curious as to what it meant. Perhaps one day she'll get to meet him? If she were to attend the Patron Ball, would she meet him there?

Probably.

"Uno," Charline came around the side of the vanity tables and smiled, "I found you!"

Uno frowned over at her friend. "No you didn't… you're only seeing things."

Charline giggled. "Come—breakfast awaits!"

-

Meg sat down besides Uno and frowned into her glass. "Is it safe to drink?" She asked Uno. Charline paused in sipping her tea and stole a frightened glance at Uno.

Uno's mild expression wiped away until she was left with a blank stare at Meg's exposed fear. She blinked a few times, appearing very much tired, before sighing.

"Yes," Uno breathed out. "The both of you its fine. I watched you both get drinks from the counter without Marcella around—and she _still_ isn't around yet, either!"

Charline lowered her glass and bit her lower lip. "Alright," she murmured out. "You win."

Uno nodded and glared Meg. "Drink it or I'll make you drown in it."

Meg gasped. "Uno!"

Uno shrugged and bit into a pastry. "Either that, dehydrate."

Meg frowned and lifted her glass to her lips. "Very well—you win."

Uno smirked and nodded her head. "I am _good_." She received giggles in return.

Marcella stepped into the room shortly after and picked up her plate from the counter top. Uno's eyes narrowed, pleased that Marcella chose the one she assumed would be picked. She was the first one into the café that morning and wasn't sure if Marcella would have the same thing.

_So far so good,_ she summed up. She turned back to her plate and let a grin play across her lips.

In no time after Marcella bit into her pastry did she spit it back out and begin coughing. Her friends turned their attention to her immediately, desperate to know if she were going to cough up blood as well. Instead, Marcella's coughs ceased and she tried to eat again. Once more, the pastry fell out of her hands and she covered her lips to cough. However this time, skin color turned black; it was a color only seen when the plague of the red death was going around.

She shot to her feet and shrieked, as did her friends. "What's going on?" Marcella panicked. "Why am I turning this horrible color?"

"Marcella!" Her friend screeched. "I will go and get Madam Giry!"

"Oh my goodness, Marcella," another friend stammered out and stumbled backwards. "You look like you have been plagued with the red death!"

At _that_, every ballerina in the café screamed and fled from the room. Charline and Meg jumped up to their feet but Uno held them down with her dark glares and deep, demanding voice.

"Stay seated."

"Uno—she is highly contaigeous!" Charline spat back.

"_Witch!_" Marcella turned to her. "You have put a spell on me!"

Uno shrugged and turned to glance at her. She swallowed her bite and grinned. "What's the matter, La Marcella? Can't hold your own of _Gnos Settilmint Alberknox_?"

She narrowed her eyes then seethed out. "You _poisoned_ me…"

"We're even now—that's one for one." Marcella gasped. "But unlike Charline, you'll heal up in seventy-two hours."

"Witch…" Marcella backed away. "How could you?"

Uno returned to her pastry and shrugged her shoulders. "Just don't eat anything for seventy-two hours and if you drink water—or even _touch_ water—the period of being ill extends even further." Marcella spun and fled the room in search of Madam Giry.

Meg frowned. "Is there a cure, Uno?"

"Yeah but it's not needed," she admitted while staring into her pastry. Charline stared down at her lap. "As I said, if she strays away from liquids and solids for seventy-two hours, she'll be alright." Uno noticed Charline and frowned. "Are you okay, Charline?"

Charline raised her head and stifled a smirk. "It _was_ rather funny to watch her stand there in fright."

Uno chuckled. "Yeah—no telling."

"Where did you learn…?"

Uno returned to Meg then stared back at her pastry. "_Gnos Settilmint Alberknox_? It's a poison used for torturing information out of the enemy. It was invented by a scientist where I came from," she explained. "The prisoner would be given a meal and after a single bite would become contaminated with this deadly disease—I say deadly because you can die of starvation and dehydration. The captor would give the prisoner some water to drink—extending the illness—and some food to eat—_if_ they can eat without coughing it up, first."

"That's so cruel!" Meg gasped in alarm.

Uno shrugged and continued explaining. "The entire time the prisoner would feel sick and frightened of their skin color and they would tell all the captor wanted to know. When they were finally given the chance to live—and if the captor didn't wish to kill them—they would be forced to stay secluded in a locked cell until their illness goes away. Depending on how long it took to pry information out of them—considering each time they would ignore giving in, they would touch water—depends on when they would be healed. Usually by that time the human body dies of exhaustation and fatigue."

"That's horrible!" Meg proclaimed. "Is there a cure incase Marcella never heals?"

"Yeah but I don't worry creating it," Uno raised her glass, "when a girl like that needs to learn patience and appreciate what she has been given."

Meg frowned and shut her gaping mouth. "I don't understand."

Uno swallowed her sip then lowered her glass. Softly, she said, "She's jealous of us."

* * *

**Spiffy, eh? Hehehe... fits the title too! Shes the Mistress of Vengeance as Erik is the Master.**


	20. Shinimegami

**Yes... for all this time you have been wondering about a long chapter and here I give it to you.**

**38 PAGES! OMG SHE POSTED 38 PAGES! IT'S A MIRACLE!**

**Okay... this chapter is entitled: Shinimegami because you get to see the Goddess of Death in action--and I DO mean STRAIGHT-FORWARD ACTION! Enjoy the chapter... take notes if you want. I know several of y'all out there have been waiting for this moment for a LONG time.**

**The song she sings is entitled, "Greensleeves" and I forgot who wrote it but I'm sure you can find out if you search the net. I DID NOT MAKE IT! Sheeze... I'm not THAT good!**

**And a quick word of advice... I hope nobody out there has a weak stomach... (snickers).

* * *

- Chapter Twenty - **

Thankfully Madam Giry took heed to Uno's curing technique and had Marcella remain locked in a room for the following three days without food or water. The ballet rat was vicious when she was finally released but to Madam Giry's relief she had little energy to work upon it. The circle of friends of La Marcella strayed away from Uno for fear of the perfected ballerina putting the same 'cursing poison' on them. Uno didn't mind the fear; she got her most needed peace.

Marcella took another two days to heal from the lack of nutrition and by this time even Charline was worrying. Uno still appeared nonchalant about the whole ordeal, insisting Marcella learn her lesson, seeing as Uno knows far more potential and dangerous threats than anyone in modern day society.

Or as modern as eighteen-seventy-three would allow.

"_Witch!_" Uno froze when she heard Marcella's screeching voice berating down the staircase of the dormitory. With a deep frown she glanced up the stairs and to the opening in the ceiling of the prop hall. Her ears twitched as more words drifted on semi-quiet air.

"What language is this?" Uno's eyes narrowed. "This is some devil language—written in numbers!"

She smirked. _Took them a while to find it._

Uno began heading upstairs into the dorms and paused when she found Charline was amongst the group. Her brows creased together and her lips parted but then she noticed one of Marcella's friends sitting besides her, hands pressed aggressively on Charline's shoulders. Uno narrowed her eyes and turned to confront Marcella.

"Let her go," Uno seethed out. "Your fight is with me—_not_ her!"

"What is this?" Marcella held up Uno's diary and spat at her. "This devil language that only _you_ and the devil can read?"

"Apparently," Uno remarked with amusement hinted within her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Marcella a charming smile. "Since only the devil can read my thoughts."

Marcella gasped and so did the other ballerinas. Charline struggled against the grip on her shoulder but got no where. Uno frowned at Charline then turned to her captor and growled.

"Let. Her. Go." Uno bit out darkly. She turned to Marcella and replaced her previous smile with a mischievious grin. "Or I will break her captor's wrists." The girl gasped and pulled her hands off Charline. Uno bowed her head. "Thank you."

"You really _are_ a witch! Look!" Marcella shoved the diary into Uno's hands. "It is a language not known to our eyes!"

Uno smirked and flipped through the written pages totaling up to half the book. "Well that's for damn sure," she choked out on a short laugh. "Binary won't be created until at _least_ the late—until later." Uno curved her tongue before her words really set in. She closed the book and raised her gaze to stare at Marcella.

"Witch," Marcella spat out softly. "I will tell the world."

"You do… and your friends die with you," Uno muttered. "For each breath one of them inhales, another second of their live vanishes before their very eyes." Her eyes narrowed. "Save yourself the time, Marcella. Let's go for a walk."

"Never," Marcella spat back. "I will go _no where_ with you."

She nodded and glanced down to the floor. "Then never let me catch you in the act, Marcella, because the penalty for dealing with the devil is death."

"You would know."

Uno raised her head just slightly and stared through the dark haze obscuring her vision. The image she portrayed right then and gave off to Marcella sent shivers down the spinal cords of all girls in the room, including Charline.

"You've been warned. Now let my friend go."

Marcella glanced over at her friend before turning away entirely and retreating down the stairs. The other girls followed and soon Uno was left alone with Charline. She returned to her bed and replaced her diary in the same spot. If Marcella was foolish enough to steal her diary once again she would find the devil can take many forms.

"Uno I—" Charline stopped talking and watched Uno stick the diary beneath the springs on the cot. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Uno groaned out. She pulled herself back up and sighed as soon as she got comfortable on her bed. "For all we know that bitch is running to the police to go and tattle."

"What would you do then?"

Uno's schlumped her shoulders. "Nothing. I don't run from fights and I'm sure as hell not going to flee from this little _baka_ who thinks she can get away." Uno laced her fingers together and raised her arms. She set her head against her locked hands.

Charline stared at her in puzzlement. "_Baka_?"

"It's Japanese for idiot—more-say, fool."

"Oh."

"What do you have planned for today?"

"Well," she smiled suddenly, "Meg and I were going to go shopping. Madam Giry had told us a few new stores opened up and Meg was searching for a shopping partner. I volunteered."

Uno nodded in acceptance. "Have a safe walk."

"Well the carriage will deliver us to the city."

"You should walk," Uno retorted. She pulled her hands down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her kneecaps. "It's healthier for you."

Charline gasped. "That's too long of a walk!"

"Not really," Uno remarked. Her braid tumbled over her shoulder and hung to the ground. "About ten minutes."

"I highly doubt Meg would wish to walk that far."

"Why?" Uno frowned. "You're going to walk it when you shop."

Charline opened her mouth as if to continue but simply shut up. Uno smirked and sat back. "Oh come on—don't tell me you gave up already!"

Charline glanced away. "Silence yourself, Uno."

"No!" Uno choked out with a laugh. "Come on. A hot blooded American stands down from a fight?" She giggled. "This is too much."

"Uno," Charline growled.

Uno smirked and continued right on, knowing what was happening. "Now if you were French I would have understood—"

Charline lept to her feet and pounced at Uno. "Silence!" Her hands went for Uno's shoulders and she shoved Uno down onto the bed. Uno laughed and fell back, letting the slightly older girl straddle her. Charline growled down at the braided girl beneath her and pressed her lips together.

"Don't make me hurt you, Uno," Charline warned in a sweet voice, completely opposite of the menacing look on her face. "My father taught me how to rope cattle."

Uno giggled. "I thought you came from America—not Texas."

"I _did_ come from America," Charline explained. "But my grandfather was a Commanchee. My father has had training in the art of Tribal _and_ Western."

Uno frowned and wrapped her fingers around Charline's waist to make certain her friend didn't slide off in a wrong way and hurt herself. "Then how did your parents meet?"

"My mother and her family were crossing in a wagon from San Diego and my father met then while they were in Texas. They were heading to New York."

"Did your father join?"

Charline nodded. "Papa said that Grandfather Brown Leaf insisted he learn about the white men in the colonies, since he was a legend in Dallas."

"That's amazing." Uno murmured.

"Yep."

Uno nodded then began lifting Charline up off her body. "Now get off me."

"Uno!" Charline giggled and regained her posture. She backed away from the bed and let her friend stand. "You are strange."

"Yeah well—no stranger than you." She winked Charline. "Come on, Charline. Meg's probably lookin' for ya."

Uno saw Meg and Charline off, still insisting the two of them walk to town rather than using a carriage. When the carriage turned around a corner she returned to the theater. Several men and woman passed by her, traveling to and from their destinations. She traveled up the elegant stairs and entered the building. The bustle of life vanished the moment the doors closed but the few ballerinas scurrying around in the halls disappeared in other halls or in the theater.

Uno followed a few into the theater. When she stepped inside she found half of the ballet on the stage twirling to Madam Giry's lectures. She smirked; that woman would find _any_ reason to call a rehearsal to action.

"Why won't you have Uno demonstrate this move," Marcella shouted. All faces turned to see the braided young girl making her way down the isles towards the stage. Madam Giry raised her chin and regarded her 'equal'.

"Oh don't mind me," Uno remarked. "I'm only passing through." Her voice _dripped_ with sarcasm.

"Or can you _not_ dance the double air twirl?" Marcella smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

Uno paused and tilted her head to the side. She gave Marcella an odd glance and and snorted. "If anyone here has needed help in their balance it has been you, Marcella. In all the many years I've been a ballerina I have never heard a ballet rat dance more than I have _seen_… until I met you."

Gasps filled the air and Marcella narrowed her eyes. "You," Marcella seethed.

"Yes me," Uno smiled and fluttered her eyelids. "And me alone."

"Why don't you show us then," she continued to seethe out. "Or are you just a mindless witch with no actions to follow your words?"

Uno's brows shot to her hairline. "Mindless?" She choked out on her next breath and stole a glance at the many gaping faces. She was amazed the ballet mistress had allowed this argument to carry on so far.

"If anyone here is mindless it's definitely you, Marcella." Uno returned to staring Marcella down in the eye even from the lower platform. "I have given you proof to believe I am not a witch and still you insisted I work in witchcraft."

"Then show us," she grinned and stretched her arm out to the stage where the practice took place, "and demonstrate what an _ordinary_ girl can do if she works alone without the air of _witchcraft_."

Uno frowned and shook her head. She stared at the floor before her and sighed. "Why do you keep calling me a witch?" She stared up at Madam Giry and saw the competitive expression in the older woman's gaze. With a deep inhale, she replied, "Fine."

Uno made her way to the stage and the rest cleared out of her path. She turned around and faced the opposing figurehead then lifted her arms up into the air. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The few steps she took strolling around the center stage helped to break her thoughts and quicken her pace. When she returned to the center of action she leapt into the air and twirled. As soon as she landed she leapt again, twirling once more. Uno stared Marcella in the eyes when she returned to her awareness and kept her nature stoic and void of any emotion.

"There," Uno mumbled out, "I did your move."

She passed Marcella without even a shove and ignored the Italian girl with the air of the aristrocracy for which she was raised. Marcella apparently didn't like getting blown off and the moment Uno's back was to her, made her move. Uno was near the stairs that led to the side of the stage to the audience and charged. Uno turned around at the last minute, in just enough time to see Marcella extending both of her arms. The Italian hands met contact with the crush velvet of Uno's dress and shoved hard.

"La Marcella!" Madam Giry shouted. Many gasped and shrieks sounded when they watched Uno tilt backwards,

Uno's foot, which was currently on the top stair, slipped backwards and her ankle twisted in a dangerous fashion. Uno's arms shot out for balance but it didn't stop the fall Marcella had given her. Her foot slipped down onto the next step, the twisted ankle jerking into another position, and her leg locked up. When Uno landed on the ground she was still standing up but with the use of her opposite leg.

She raised her head and glared Marcella with a glare that meant more than just a threat. The Italian rat raised her chin and squared her shoulders back.

"Let that be a lesson not to disappoint me," she warned to the injured girl below.

Uno knew without bothing to flex her muscles that her left leg was broken. She sighed and turned around. She found some left over rope and slabs of wood by the wall and hopped towards it.

"Uno—" Madam Giry began but Uno cut her off.

"Forget it," she spat. "I can take care of myself."

She sat on the floor and propped her leg up on the wall. Scooting herself closer, she braced her knee with both hands then began pushing. The girls began screamed and fleeing from the scene. Uno cringed in pain and screamed. Marcella gaped at her and Madam Giry cluthed her chest in fear. The screams were suddenly joined by an audible _crack_ when Uno's joints reset into the healthy lock. She sighed and relaxed her head against the floor. A smirk formed on her lips from the sounds of terror coming from everyone else.

"My goodness," said one of the girls.

"That is frightening," said another.

"It's disgusting!" Proclaimed another.

Uno pushed off the wall and sat up. She stretched out her leg and secured a short slab of the wood, tightly, to her leg with the rope. As soon as she finished her task, she stood back up and glanced up at Marcella's gaping face with a nonchalant stare.

"Let _that_ be a lesson not to disappoint _me_," Uno shot back. "There are over two-hundred-and-six bones in a human body—each of which I have broken at _least_ once. Don't curse yourself in the possibilities of breaking my record."

She turned to go and left the terrified rats in their quake.

-

Erik shook his head when he watched the ballet rehearse and learn new moves. Madam Giry had believed them to need a better education and had most of the ballet attend rehearsals, despite the audition in the following two days. He watched the worthless La Marcella dance and swore he could_ hear_ her footsteps when they were supposed to be as graceful as a feather in the air.

Her friends were no different.

They stopped and he frowned. Several of the girls turned and glanced out at the audience. He followed and found Uno making her way towards the stage.

"Why don't you have Uno demonstrate this move?" Marcella had asked in a loud and obnoxious voice.

"Oh don't mind—I'm only passing through." Uno's sarcasm was _clearly_ as strong as his steed.

"Or can you _not_ dance the double air twirl?"

Uno paused and frowned up at her rival. "If anyone here has needed help in their balance it has been you, Marcella." Erik smirked, a chuckle rising in the back of his throat. "In all the many years I've been a ballerina I have never heard a ballet rat dance more than I have _seen_… until I met you."

"Too true, my dear," Uno said softly. "Too true." He knew Marcella was the mind behind Charline's injury and right when he was about to confront the measily rat and frighten her, she came down ill. Apparently another vengeful person had gotten to her first.

"You," the hot Italian blooded girl seethed out. Erik frowned, a though suddenly occurring when he recalled the last time a hot Italian girl was jealous of the better person.

_La Carlotta and La Marcella… perhaps the Italian blood is what causes this outrage._

"Yes me," Uno returned sweetly. "And me alone."

"Why don't you show us then? Or are you just a mindless witch with no actions to follow your words?"

Erik's brows rose to the hairline of his head. _Mindless? Need you forget—she has poisoned you with a much worse fate than ground glass, Marcella._

"Mindless?" Uno choked out in shock. "If anyone here is mindless it's definitely you, Marcella. I have given you proof to believe I am not a witch and still you insisted I work in witchcraft."

"Then show us," Marcella pointed to the stage, "and demonstrate what an _ordinary_ girl can do if she works alone without the air of _witchcraft_."

Uno glanced at the ground and sighed. "Why do you keep calling me a witch?" She took a deep breath then stared Madam Giry in the eyes. "Fine."

Uno stepped onto the stage and demonstrated her dance. As soon as she finished, she had pleased a few ballerinas, her ballet mistress, and Erik himself. She turned back to Marcella and began walking up to her.

"There—I did your move."

La Marcella turned and charged Uno with her arms extended. She shoved Uno down the stairs and watched the braided girl struggle to withstand her balance. Madam Giry shouted her name and Erik even shot to his feet in rage. His lips flared and his eyes narrowed in anger.

That foolish girl will surely pay!

Uno landed on the floor without a tumble but she was leaning on her right leg. He frowned then noticed the odd look of her left leg; it was broken. He growled, his teeth gritting together.

"Let that be a lesson not to disappoint me," Marcella said in a warning tone that he heard quite clearly. She stood on the top step, staring down at the girl below.

Uno turned and stepped up to the wall. Erik frowned when she sat down on the ground, lay back onto the floor, and then propped her leg up into the air. She grasped her broken knee with both hands then started to scream. The other girls screamed as well. Erik gasped and his breath got harder to inhale.

_She is resetting the bone herself!_

He could hear the crack of her knee rejoining the joints way up in Box Five.

"Oh my goodness!"

"How horrible!"

"That is frightening."

"Uno—you scare me now."

"It's disgusting!"

He heard several more comments but ignored them. Uno tied a block of wood to her mended knee then stood back up. She turned around to stare up at Marcella—most likely to glare her—and growled.

"Let _that_ be a lesson not to disappoint _me_. There are over two-hundred-and-six bones in a human body—each of which I have broken at _least_ once." Erik gawked. "Don't curse yourself in the possibilities of breaking my record."

She turned and left. Erik lost all feeling in his body and collapsed back into his chair. He normally wouldn't feel shocked at scene such as that but it was _highly_ unusual! Womendo _not_ do those sorts of things or know as much as Uno Maxwell!

"My dear Mademoiselle Maxwell," he breathed out. Erik stared down at the remaining gathering of terrified ballerinas, where as the rest fled from the scene. "You are truly more than a mystery and each second I glance your way you startle me even more."

He narrowed his eyes and in the back of his mind made out the following comments Marcella shouted out at Madam Giry. "She's a witch! Nobody could do what she did to her broken leg! After rehearsals I'm telling the police!"

Erik closed his eyes and smirked, as his game with a certain braided woman was about to become more intense. He leant his left elbow on the cushioned arm of the chair and covered his face with his gloved hand.

_What are you hiding, Uno? What is your secret?_

-

Uno frowned down at her leg while she sat alone on the stairs outside the Opera Populaire and released the rope. The street lights were bright, the sky as black as the scene of space, and the life of Paris hidden within the walls of their homes. With a sigh, she pulled the wood away from her skin and laid it down on the steps besides her. Her leg didn't hurt, her muscles worked just fine, and by the way things felt her leg had already healed.

"Son of a bitch," she breathed out. "Fuckin' hurt, though."

_Of course it hurt,_ Zero stammered out. _It _always_ hurts when it pinches but the sting doesn't last for long. Not when you're gifted in such a way._

"Go to hell," she murmured. "You're a fucking computer program—nothing more."

_Oh—but aren't you the recinarnated Pandora? Given a job to do and instead you fail the only mission in opening the box against commands?_

"You gave yourself to me—I didn't ask for this shit in return," Uno whispered. "Go away and leave me the fuck alone."

A dark chuckle emerged in the depths of her mind. _Aren't we a little demanding. As the greatest poet of morbidality once said, "Quothe the Raven, nevermore."_

Uno narrowed her eyes and tossed the rope away. "Asshole."

_At least I trust who my enemies are._

Uno frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

_Look up,_ Uno glanced up and saw the back of Marcella not far off in the distance. _She is most likely heading off to the station to report lies about you._

"How do you know?"

_Why else would she be out at ten o'clock, close to midnight?_

She raised her head and her eyes became narrow slits as she was sent to deep thought. "Good point."

_Better hurry,_ Zero insisted. Uno got to her feet and turned towards the side of the building where the stables were located. _She could disappear by the time you ready Hercules._

Uno began jogging in the direction she needed to go. On the way to the last stall she grabbed a few needed items and secured them to her body. Saddeling him up took only a few minutes; the most time took tightening the straps of the saddle. She finally finished and lept onto his back. Uno gripped the reins and kicked Hercules into actions. He charged and jumped over the gate then began running at top speed out of the stables.

Marcella's form came into view and Uno lowered herself to the steed's back to quicken his pace. He sped up and together they closed the distance between them and the target. Uno's eyes narrowed, her breathing coming in sancronized beats with her heart.

"She is my enemy," Uno murmured before sending her vocals into a rage of emotion. "La Marcella is my enemy!"

Marcella turned around upon hearing her name but turned back around in fear when she saw a black horse nearing her and a braid trailing in the wind from the figure's head. She screamed and began running but Uno didn't let her get even another foot away. She came up along the side of the character in mind, swooped an arm down and wrapped it around the girl's waist. Hoisting a dead body was harder than a writhering ballet rat. Uno scooped her up and laid her across the back of Hercules' neck, the same way she once had to a child during the Synodd battles. Only then it was on a bike.

Marcella screamed. "Somebody help me!"

"Silence!" Uno roared. She pulled on the reins and turned the horse around. "Or I will render you unable to speak!"

"Somebody—help me!" Marcella spotted a few people off in the distance and shrieked. "_Help!_"

"God you don't fucking listen!" Uno released a hand from the reins and gripped the back of Marcella's neck. She squeezed gently until the pressure point helped to send the girl into inconsciousness. She directed the black horse into the woods in a different direction other than the lake.

-

After dropping the pest in the woods Uno made a quick run back to the theater. She jumped off Hercules and let the horse guide himself back towards his stall while she stole inside the building. By now, the hour was late and drawing closer towards midnight. Uno knew that what she had in mind would take hours and she wanted the annoyance to be awake during the whole thing. For that to happen she needed her med pack.

The halls were dark but it didn't slow her down one bit. Uno made her way in a rush towards the servants halls, minding to herself and sure to keep out of view from anyone who may spot her—such as Meg or Charline—and finally reached her destination. She urgently knocked. Madam Giry opened the door quickly and without a second to waste, Uno explained her haste.

"I need pain killers," she spat. "I… have this annoyance I need to get rid of."

The woman nodded and moved out of the way. Uno stepped inside and swallowed hard to calm her rushing heart. Marcella would wake shortly and she wanted to be there when she did.

"What did you need again?" Madam Giry asked, hoping to calm the stressed ballerina out.

"In the stuff I came here with and emptied my pockets—one of those items was a medpack."

She nodded and headed towards her secret compartment where she stored Uno's futuristic century belongings. She lifted out a tiny black book and turned back to the braided girl.

"That's it," Uno said with a swift nod of her head. Madam Giry glanced at her oddly and Uno pointed her hand to the item at hand. "That's the uh—the medpack."

She nodded and shut the drawer before turning back to Uno. "How is your knee?"

Uno feined a smile and took the medpack. "It's better—slightly hurts every-so-often."

"This will help?"

"All the way," Uno replied. "Take away the pain to let me stay awake longer. It lasts about four hours so I can do what's needed—in this case fall asleep."

"Very well. I Shall see you in the morning."

Uno said her goodbyes then left the room and made haste to return to Hercules. What she didn't tell the older woman was that with her incredibly enhanced immunse system, injuries don't bother her. Staying in the shadows until she reached the stables Uno noticed the horse standing in the stall. She eyed it curiously and chuckled.

"Well look at that. I leave you alone for one minute and already you try and go home." He whinnied and threw his head back. "Don't give me that shit—you need to take me somewhere. So come on and let's go."

Hercules released a deep breath through his black nostrils then charged and leaped over the fence. He pranced up towards Uno then stopped and turned his head away. Uno smirked and pressed her fists to her hips. She cocked her head to the side and snorted.

"And here you are complaining. If I was finished with you for the night I woulda' taken the saddle off." He snorted and with a chuckle, Uno mounted his back. "Now come on—we're running out of time." She tucked the medpack into a space beneath the saddle and guided him into the forest.

-

By the time Marcella returned to awareness she was laying down on the grass behind an awefully large boulder. The cushion of grass beneath her served as her bed, her head lying on her arm, and her body slightly wet from the dampness of the green blades below her. She frowned and pushed up to a sitting position and stole a glimpse around. Not far off, sitting on a fallen tree, was Uno. Her elbows were pressed on her knees and a cigarette was inbetween the fingers of her right hand.

She was staring right at Marcella.

"You're awake." It sounded more of a statement than anything else. "Good." She glanced back down at the smoking cigarette in her hand. "Then we can begin."

She stood up and brought the stick to her lips. Marcella stammered to her feet and backed up a little. She swallowed hard and pressed her back against the boulder. Uno glanced down at the grass then removed the cigarette from her lips. She frowned at the rising smoke from the stick in her fingers.

"Do you know why you are out here with me, right now?"

"Because you wish to put witchcraft on me," Marcella shot back angrily.

Uno snorted. "If I had wanted to put witchcraft on you I would bring you to a Voodoo Preist." She turned back to the Italian and took another whiff of her cigarette. "But no," she said after removing the stick once again, "I'm only going to kill you the way of Shinigami."

Marcella frowned. "Who is Shinigami?"

Uno smirked and glanced down at the burning paper in her hands. "Shinigami… you don't know much, apparently." She turned back to the girl and chuckled. "And yet you claim to be everything."

"_Verdammter schweinehund_," Marcella seethed out. (Translation from German: "Idiot,") "You will burn in Hell for this!"

Uno chuckled. "Honey I'm already there." She glanced down at the nicotine in her hands and smirked. "So you know German?" Uno frowned up at Marcella with a challenging stare. "And yet you are Italian?"

"My father is German," Mercalla spat out. "And one of the best soldiers ever."

Uno's brows shot up. "A merc? You're father's a mercenary? Jesus fucking Christ I wonder why he never delivered his abilities to _you_!"

Marcella gasped. "You will hang for what you said!"

"Oh shut up ya fuckin Nazi," Uno growled. Marcella pressed her lips together and frowned. "You annoy me—your voice is just as bad as La Carlotta's singing. I swear—I'd like to think _all_ Italians are as horrible as the two of you but I have seen some for myself that aren't as bad as said."

"You are a witch and the whole world will know it!"

Uno pinched the burning end of the cigarette with her finger tips and ignored the searing pain of the heat. She flicked the butt away and neared the aggressive ballet rat. Her voice deepend to a much darker tone and her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Tell me… how can you speak when you're dead?" The color drained from Marcella's face. "How do you expect to tell on me?"

"Witch," she breathed out in a whisper. Uno sighed and slammed a curled fist into her stomach. Marcella doubled over and coughed, gasping for air as her lungs contracted. Uno turned away and back to where she previously sat, only this time remained standing.

"Y-you will pay for this," Marcella wheezed out. She stood up and glared her captor in return. "I will make certain you head is served up on a platter to your _precious_ Opera Populaire owner."

Uno's jaw locked together and she pulled both hands to the back of her dress. One inbetween each finger, Uno pulled out six thin knives from behind her dress, hidden securely in an annoying flimsy bow. The sight of the moon rays reflecting off the blades startled the ballet rat briefly.

"These were borrowed from the stables," Uno explained, "but I'm sure they won't be missed."

"You can't be serious," Marcella gasped.

"You have stepped over the lines when you injured my friend," Uno growled. "And then you had the indeciency to push me down the stairs."

"And you used witchcraft to heal yourself, it seems," Marcella bit back with sarcasm.

"Apparently… but what you don't know is that I was born _perfect_."

Uno whipped both arms out as she spun to the opposite directions. Each knife flew towards the frightened, Italian girl. The blades didn't strike her; however, Marcella raised her arms just in time to have her body pinned against the boulder. The edges of her dress were stapled to the rock, her body frozen in fear and in a position of availability.

"See," Uno smirked and cocked her head to the side to view her work at another angle, "what you _don't_ realize is the amount of people who helped to raise me. One of my… 'mothers', worked in a circus throwing knives at her brother—one of my 'fathers'. She taught me everything she knows."

"T-the circus? You're a Gypsy?"

"No—actually I'm not even from this time. You see," Uno glanced down and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm from the year fourty-five-fourteen."

"What?"

"I know—it's hard to believe."

"Let me go!"

Uno smiled genuinely. "Too you a second to beg—I would think you had begged _before_ I mentioned who taught me the knife."

"Uno please—"

"Do you know what Shinimegami stands for?" She cut her off. Uno glanced down at her fingers and smirked.

"W-what?"

"Shinimegami is my name, Marcella. It's a nicknamed I've had all my life because it was what my father had wanted me to become—my _real_ father." Uno stepped up to Marcella and sniffled the air. The girl's fear was radiant in the air around her. "Shinigami is Japanese for the God of Death—my father. Being his daughter, I am Shinimegami, the God_des_ of Dead."

Marcella swallowed. "You are a witch."

Uno shook her head and whispered. "Been tellin' ya' for months, Marcella. I ain't a witch. I'm just a lonely demon from the bowels of Hell."

"What are you doing to do to me?" The girl breathed out, her voice really not even a whisper.

"You are in my way, La Marcella." The girl's eyes grew. "Since I was a little girl I was bred for one thing: to live the life of the Perfect Assassin, the Goddess of Death, the Hero of a Massacre. I was bred to fight in any war thrown at me, to defeat any—and all—enemies that stood in my way." Marcella swallowed hard. "I was raised to _kill_ anyone who knew too much, but what can I say? It's the code of assassination."

"Uno," Marcella whispered, "please don't do this."

Uno narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to a growl. "Your terrified gazes won't help you now, Marcella. My threats should have stopped you but you were stubborn. You thought you could get away without taking the pain in return."

"Please?" She begged.

"You know, if I were any other assassin from any other time I'm sure I would faulter at that expression." Marcella breathed a sigh of relief. "But I'm not," Uno shot back with a hard, determined voice. "I have killed well over six thousand innocent _and_ guilty civilians." Marcella's mouth gaped open slowly as her eyes widened in shock.

Uno turned around and put her back to the rat. "I have slaughtered men when they thought they had defeated me. A simple high-kick to their chin and their necks are broken. Punching their nose into their skull, fracturing the most vital bone in their body. I have ripped a man's testicles from his body without the use of a knife and watched as the veins of his dick hung like cables from a destroyed circus swing."

Uno turned and witnessed the change of expression on the girl's face from shock to panic. "I shot women in the faces, tore their eyes out with my own fingernails, sliced off their breasts and I even jabbed a switch blade up one's cunt." Marcella gasped and Uno only laughed. "You shoulda' seen it! She thought I was a fucking lesbian and _wanted_ to fuck her! Boy did she thought I shoved a dildo up her pussy. When that blade shot out she sure had the scream of her life." Uno chuckled a little more and took a few steps closure towards her captive.

"But I'm not lesibian! I'm not even _bisexual_!" She choked out in a laugh. "If I have to do my job, I'll do it. If it consists of fucking a girl I'll fuck her. Kiss her, I'll kiss her. If I have to fist-fuck her then I'll ball my hand and shove it up her pussy and have her ride my hand. It's not like I haven't done _that_ before," Uno choked out. "I mean—come _on_! Those are _much_ better deaths than the bullet wounds I gave those girls. They at least died in pleasure while getting fucked!"

"You're a horrible person," Marcella murmured. "The sins you have done."

"I told you before, Marcella. I don't know what sin means. Where I come from—there isn't such thing. If it's Godly, we proved God never existed by sending life into space to create colonies on other planets or on space ships."

She shook her head. "Horrible."

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "I've done the same to the children—but _that_ I would have preferred to leave alone. Children had no right dying—but these kids witnessed me killing their folks and I couldn't have that happening." Uno frowned over at her. "You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"

"Y-you're…"

Uno grinned and stepped up to her until she stood only mere inches away. "Say it, you _die schlampe_. Say what you will." (Translation from German: 'slut'.) "Tell me you hate me, wish me to Hell, condemn my death. Scream at me, _Hurensohn!_" (Translation from German: "Son of a bitch!") "I mean, after all, _you're_ the _der schwanzletscher_, here." (Translation from German: 'cocksucker'.)

"I am not!"

"Sure," Uno turned away briefly. "And I'm still an innocent virgin."

"You probably are a dirty whore," Marcella growled out.

Uno shook her head and groaned. "_Wo hockt de bus?_ You're about to fucking die anyways!" (Translation from German: "Who the fuck cares?")

"You will _never_ get away with this," she growled out with narrowed eyes. "You won't go through with this."

Uno smirked. "Sending prayers, La Marcella?" She neared the girl and whispered into her ear, "_Laufen, laufen, laufen weg, gering der hound._ And see if anyone comes to save your pitiful soul, now." (Translation from German: "Run, run, run away, little dog.")

"Uno—you will always remain a witch. My girls will continue and they will tell the police on you."

Uno shrugged her shoulders and glanced up at one of Marcella's fingers. "So what? Not like they'll get anywhere. As soon as I'm finished with you, they're next." She raised her hands to the fingers in view.

"The police will find my body," Marcella warned with an amazingly cool tone.

"No they won't," Uno explained. Her fingers began stroking the fingers of the enemy. "Because there won't be any left. You will burn in the fires of Hell for which you were born."

"Satan's mistress!"

Uno shrugged it off. "In a way—I am." She snapped a finger and grinned when Marcella screamed. "Now that was a pretty scream. Let's make some more music, shall we?"

"Y-you wench!" Marcella shouted.

Uno snapped another finger, causing another shriek in return. "Ooh Marcella, you're screams are turning me on," Uno grinned.

"Silence!"

Another snap.

Another scream.

Uno giggled. "I am going to have an orgasm if you keep up with the screaming."

"Ugh—you atmature. Don't you know my voice will _carry_!" Marcella's eyes faded in and out but she didn't faint just yet.

Uno grinned. "Wrong again, my stupid friend."

Marcella groaned. "You killed those two stage handlers, didn't you?"

"And the two bumbling fools who tried to rape Charline and I just outside," Uno added in. "Only with that one, Charline witnessed it."

Marcella hung her and released a deep breath. Uno shook her head and turned away. She whistled and Hercules pranced her way. Marcella frowned and watched as Uno removed something from the steed's back.

"W-what are you doing with the owner's horse?" Uno turned and stared at her. "With Hercules?"

"Erik said I could borrow him whenever I wanted," Uno replied calmly. "You find it a shock or something?"

Marcella's mouth gaped open slightly. "You _met_ the owner of the Opera Populaire?"

Uno shrugged and unzipped the medpack. She strolled towards the hanging girl and flipped through the folders of needles and syringes. "He's a nice guy—to a point, I'd have to say."

"He gave you his horse?" The girl choked out. "I _knew_ you were his whore!"

Uno slipped her chosen syringe out and zipped the medpack back up. She tossed the pack onto a nearby patch of grass then removed the cap of the needle. Squirting a little of the liquid out, she turned around and grinned evilly at Marcella.

"What is that—what are you gonna' do to me?"

Uno raised one of the girl's hands and stabbed the needle painfully into her wrist. Marcella screamed just as badly as she had when her finger broke. Uno chuckled at the low pain tolerant the ballerina proved to show as she injected the serum into the body.

"What are you doing to me?" Marcella gasped.

"I can't have you dying on me so suddenly," Uno retorted. She ripped the needle out of the girl's wrist and frowned down at it. A trail of blood fell from the pinhole left behind. "And you shouldn't move that wrist—half of this needle is still stuck inside." She showed Marcella the needle tip. "See?"

Uno turned away and layed the syringe onto a patch of grass away from the medpack. It was an area she inspected to be fireworthy for when she was ready to be dispatched of the annoying Italian whore.

Marcella's voice sounded distant and touched with pain. "What was in that?"

"_Aknoxum Assulymun_," Uno answered. When she turned back and saw the blank gaze in return, she explained. "It's a pain tolerant. Something that will numb your entire body so you won't feel much of what I'll be doing to you. You'll feel it—but you won't faint from it. It's something my father once used to torture information out of an enemy assassin." Uno stepped up to Marcella and continued. "My father Duo was a very sadistic person. When given the chance to torture somebody with our torture chamber he used every square inch of torture procedures until there was hardly anything left. All the shot does is keep you awake for the next four hours so it can be done. No matter how many veins are torn from your body, how much blood you have lost, how many limbs are ripped away from your figure—you cannot die until the shot wears off or either your heart or brain is destroyed."

The look on Marcella's face nearly made Uno scream in glea.

Almost.

Uno isn't a gleeful girl.

"_Witch!_" Marcella snapped. "You _witch_! I hope you and your _Master_ have a load of sinful problems in your future together!"

Uno sent a crashing fist to the side of Marcella's face. "_Watch_ your mouth!" She snarled. "I'll have you know that my father taught me every medieval torture there is to know from where I came from and down!" She reached for the girl's fingers and snarled out, "So the next time you shout rude comments to me, keep in mind that wherever I may roam, I bring death and decay with me."

Marcella narrowed her eyes. "The devil has his bed waiting _just_ for you."

Another snap.

Another scream.

"How pitiful,. Yur voice doesn't reach seven miles out. _Hell_, it won't even reach _one_ mile out!"

"S-seven miles?"

"Yep. Deep into the forest I brought you. Then I came across a secluded area of some prarie and I felt it was the best place to send you to your demise."

Another snap.

Another scream.

"And soon I'll be out of fingers to break, so I'll have to resort to other means of pain."

"Just… stop," Marcella stuttered out in gasps of air. "You are hurting me enough."

Uno frowned and pulled back. "You wish to die so suddenly? _Surely_, you would like to play some more."

"You… wench," she seethed in return.

"Sticks and stones," Uno shot back, "even _they_ don't break my bones and hurt me." She moved to another hand.

Another snap.

Another scream.

"_Chi_," Uno breathed out. "You're screams are seriously turning me on." (Translation from Japanese: "Damn,") Marcella whimpered.

Another snap.

Another scream.

Uno grinned. "God you're good to stay awake _this_ long, Marcella. I'm impressed!"

Another snap.

Another scream.

"Wench," she whispered.

"_Kutabare,_" Uno scoffed back. "_Damare, ko musume._" (Translation from Japanese: "Fuck you. Shut up, bitch."

"W-what are you saying?" She breathed out, struggling to stay awake even more.

Another snap.

Another scream.

"I'm half Japanese and half American, you half witted, Italian, _bakado_." (Translation from Japanese: "Bastard.")

Another snap.

Another scream.

"I studied many lanuages—one of which is what my diary is written in. It's called Binary, a computer language not yet created by scientists." Uno frowned and stepped back to view the start of her masterpiece. "Aww would ya' look at that? I'm out of fingers."

Marcella screamed out in pain and Uno only waved her hand in the air to blow off the shriek. "Don't scream so much—you might get a sore throat, ruining my fun, and my cunt will dry before I have a chance to work with it."

"W-w-witch!"

Uno chuckled. "Whore."

"You work for the devil!"

"Yep."

"You're going to burn in _Hell_!"

"Exactly," Uno replied in glee. "And I am going to _enjoy_ torturing you _all_ over again!" Marcella hung her head and groaned. Uno frowned and whined.

"Now don't pass out on me! We're just having fun!"

"Go to Hell."

"I will soon, I promise."

Marcella grunted. "I hate you."

"Didn't you always?" She grunted again and this time, Uno giggled in return. "You are _so_ much fun to play with!" Uno got an idea in mind and her eyes twinkled with the thought of it. "I think you should give _everything_ a shot before you die, don't you?"

Marcella raised her head and frowned. Uno's voice was suddenly sultry and seductive. The braided girl neared the one in pain and lifted her chin in oddly enough, smooth hands. Marcella stared into the eyes of violet and frowned. She gawked silently when Uno placed her lips on her own and kissed her. After a moment of swapping tongue Uno pulled back and smiled, tilting her head to the side.

"Now see… what did you think about kissing another girl? Something new for ya?" Marcella continued staring in dead shock at her captor. "Well… I _hate_ it!" Uno slammed her fist into the girl's gut with fierce speed and strength. "I _hate_ when people think I'm bisexual because they see how close of friends I am with people! I was best friends with Theresa before Ricky stole her away from me—and people thought we were fucking each other! With Charline, now—thank _God_ nobody here thinks in such degoratory ways!"

"Uno…"

"Yeah don't fret it," Uno slapped Marcella's cheek roughly, sending her head to twist to the side. "I hated it as much as you had. You think I_ enjoyed_ kissing you? You think I _enjoy_ having to fuck a girl to kill her? Hah!" She delivered an uppercut to Marcella's chin and grinned when blood dribbled out of the rat's lips.

"Now _there's_ a beautiful sight… blood on your lips." Uno leaned in and licked it off her lips. "And you have blood type 'O', considering it's a sweet taste, and all."

"Let me go," she whispered.

"Go!" Uno spread her arms wide. "Run away—if you can get loose on your own, that is." Marcella whimpered and hung her head again. "But since you can't, I get to have more fun."

"Just end this torture already," she whispered, "please?"

"Oh no. No way—you are _not_ getting out _that_ easily!" Uno wrapped her fingers around one of the knives that pinned her to the boulder-wall. "We're just about to have some fun, anyways."

Uno dragged the knife along the line of Marcella's chest, traveling from one breast bone to the other. Marcella screamed out at the top of her lungs. Blood began to spray out at Uno's face, coating the girl's fascinated gaze with crimson.

"Now… we have some fun," Uno murmured.

-

It was sunrise when Uno finished her task. She removed the body of La Marcella down from the boulder and dragged it into the center of the little clearing. There was enough dry brush around to pile on top of the corpse's form but Uno still searched deep into the forest until she had enough to hide the body well. She stood over the mound of dry brush and decaring carcus with a cigarette in her hand.

"What a waste of good flesh," she murmured, taking another puff of the stick. Her entire face was still coated in the blood of her earlier kill, albeit dried up by now and crusting off.

She glanced down at her cigarette and frowned. "Marcella would have been a wonderful whore with how well those lips flapped around." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well. It's gone now."

Before turning away, Uno flicked her cigarette into the bed of dried up items. She spent a good several hours killing Marcella slowly. The waking took an hour and half, the bone snapping another hour and half, and then finally the cutting-up part was a good three hours. Spending six hours to any _normal_ assassin would have been a horrendous task, but to Uno it was fun.

She hasn't had that much fun in _years_!

Uno neared the little stream she found earlier, when Marcella was still asleep. She wasn't afraid if the rat would have runned should she wake when Uno wasn't around; that attack of silencing normally lasted a good several hours, only on this occasion Uno was certain to make sure it lasted about a fraction of that time. Behind her the fire raged to life, burning with a passion and sending flames towards the sky above.

The unattained to human life, sky above.

The empty sky, above.

The beautiful sunrising sky, above.

She knelt down besides the stream and began washing her hands. The little stream most likely came from the waterfall she bathed at. Uno knew there would be no way to form a lake and waterfall without having an exit. The streamwater began to streak with red as Uno washed her face off. When at last she was clean of any evidence of the murder, Uno raised her gaze to the rising sun in the vibrant colored sky.

She would be here for a _long_ time to make sure the body was burned to complete ash.

-

Uno didn't return to the theater until the following morning. The mound of rubble took a long time to finish becoming ash and several times the fire dimmed out. Uno struggled to light the mound again but finally succeeded each time she needed to start over.

When Charline saw her enter she pondered Uno's whereabouts but left it alone after she noticed the stern look in the violet eyes. Instead, Charline pulled Uno up to the dorms to share her previous shopping day with Meg. Shortly after, Meg popped her head through the opening in the floor to tell the two ballerinas about the audition.

With a nod, Uno stood and left the room with Charline trailing behind.

"All the world's a stage," Uno quoted, her words going over her shoulder to Charline.

"Pardon?"

"Shakespeare once said that," Uno turned back. "To him, the world was a stage, everything was a prop, and all living creature were the cast. It was just the script the play required."

"The script, Uno?"

"The play!" Uno shot out with a wide grin. She continued walking backwards, not minding where she stepped or what she stepped _over_. "To him, all that was required was the script, the reason for the play."

"I have never read Shakespeare but I _have_ heard of him," Charline smiled.

Uno shrugged her shoulders then turned back around to walk normally. "So what do you think our audition will be for, this time?"

"I have heard some of the girl mention several pieces—though which one I am unsure of."

"Which makes two of us," Uno murmured. She opened the door to the theater and stepped inside. Charline closed the door behind her and followed Uno to the seats.

A ballerina was currently dancing on the stage and after receiving her rate, left. Meg was next and as usual, received her previous state as the prima ballerina. Charline was next and remained part of the corpse de ballet. When La Marcella's name was called the circle of friends Marcella had glanced around in wonder.

"Monsieurs," one of them stood up, "she did not return the other night."

Monsieur Firmin turned to the said rat. "Where did she go?"

"It was late, Monsieur, but she said she had a meeting with somebody outside of the theater."

"Probably meeting up with a buyer," came the voice of another ballerina. Uno smirked.

_I guess I'm not the _only_ one who hates Marcella—correction, hat_ed_, Marcella._

"Oh well… we don't have much time to wait," Monsieur Firmin breathed out. "We will contact the police shortly." He waved at the conductor to call the next name.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell," Monsieur Reyer called out. Uno stood up and made her way towards the stage. Charline smiled brightly and Uno nodded her head in her friend's direction. When she got to the center of the stage she glanced back down at the conductor.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell ah—can you sing?"

With a sigh, Uno closed her eyes and groaned. "Sir—I thought we already went through this."

Monsieur Reyer held up a white letter. "But he said you have a beautiful voice." She frowned and opened her eyes to see the note in his hand. "O.G. said you have a talent greater than any he has ever heard."

"O.G.?" He nodded and she felt her inside turning to hard stone with anger boiling deep within her blood. "Look—I told you all before," she turned to the managers, "I _can't_ sing opera."

"But he insists you audition," Monsieur Firmin chimed in. "And he _will_ take his words to actions."

Uno frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Monsieur Andre stood up as well. "_If_ you do not sing to your fullest ability—he will destroy your contract and have you look elsewhere for a theater."

At _that_ her mouth gaped open. She turned to the ballet mistress. The older woman stared at her, puzzled. She glanced at the managers before turning back to Uno.

"Uno—please?"

"I told you I _can't_ sing opera!" Uno shouted this time. She turned back to the managers then to the conductor. "I mean it—I can _not_ sing!"

"But he says you _can_!" Firmin shot back.

"I _can't_!" Uno defended.

"So you _can't_ sing at all?" Andre asked with slight confusion.

"I can't sing opera!" Uno continued. "Trust me—I have _tried_! I have sung for _years_ but I _still_ can't sing opera!"

All too late she realized what she had said.

_You are truly a Maxwell,_ Zero retorted.

Uno closed her eyes and drowned out the gasps from both managers, the ballet mistress, the conductor, her friends, and the many who were in the audience watching the argument. Her mouth remained parted as she held her breath. Her head tilted backwards and she felt the bile stench of regret filling her lungs in return.

"Y-you can sing?" Firmin stuttered out. "B-but you said you couldn't."

Uno sagged her shoulders.

"Can you?" Andre added in.

Madam Giry's brows creased and she leaned in closer to her pupil. "Uno?"

Uno hung her head and released the breath she had been holding.

"Is it true?" Monsieur Reyer choked out.

She took a deep breath and when she released it, it was on shaky grounds. Eyes still closed, Uno nodded and answered with a solemn, "Yes."

Firmin gaped. "T-then _why_ lie about it?"

Uno frowned and snapped her gaze at him. "I never lied—I just said I couldn't sing. I never said I could sing to begin with. You just assumed I couldn't since opera."

Firmin closed his mouth but Andre perked up. "Yet you sang for us before and you changed your voice to sound horrible—why?"

"I did?" Uno felt taken aback. "I just had a scratchy throat that day. There are some days I have sore throats for no reason—though that hasn't been in a few years."

"So you can't sing opera but you _can_ sing?" Monsieur Reyer asked. Uno stifled a smirk and glanced down at him.

"Yes Monsieur," she breathed out in a sigh. "I can."

"Sing your scales, then?"

"I can't sing scales—I was never taught."

He frowned. "Never… taught?" She shook her head. "How can you not be taught your scales?"

"Cause I never took a lesson to sing in my whole life."

"Sing something then," Madam Giry urged. When Uno turned back to her Madam Giry lowered her gaze from staring up at the box seats. She glanced at the boxes as well but saw nothing. "Please?"

Uno hung her head and sighed. "Alright."

"Shall I play the piano?" Reyer asked.

"No," She raised her head and stared him in the eyes. "I'll just… sing."

He nodded then glanced briefly at his podium. "What, may I ask, will you be singing?"

"Greensleeves," she murmured. Madam Giry backed herself to the side of the stage and Uno noticed Charline was staring at her blankly. She pouted and sulked, wishing she could continue dancing instead.

"Mademoiselle?" Reyer urged.

Uno nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Alright."

She glanced over at him and closed her eyes. He frowned and lowered his batan, realizing that apparently he wasn't entirely needed. She began to sing to lyrics, her voice staying her normal tone—which was slightly above normal—and kept her eyes shut the whole time.

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong—to cast me off discourteously. For I have loved you well and long—delighting in your company." She took a short breath and raised her voice as high as she did that first night she sang on stage to Ricky. "Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves."

Her voice alone carried throughout the rafters and the back of the stage to where several ballerinas were practicing for the audition. One in particular—Meg—heard the unknown voice and peeked in. The moment her ears heard the tune, she turned and grabbed the attention of the rest of the ballet.

"Your vows you've broken, like my heart—oh, why did you so enrapture me? Now I remain in a world apart, but my heart remains in captivity."

"Megh—who is that?" Asked a dancer. Meg turned to her with a wide grin.

"That is Uno—oh she sound so wonderful!" Meg turned back to stare at Uno from the distance they stood.

"Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves." Again, Uno's voice drifted high into the rafters as she sang the chorus lines. Her vocals carried through the dark shadows and scared any and every monster away, jumping in and out from the box seats and up to the chandelier above.

"She is _amazing_!" Another dancer said dreamily.

"I have been ready at your hand to grant whatever you would crave," Uno continued, "I have both wagered life and land, your love and good-will for to have. Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves."

"Uno…" Charline trailed off in aw.

"If you intend thus to disdain—it does the more enrapture me. And even so, I still remain—a lover in captivity. Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves." Uno's heart began to pour into her words and voice and soon her magical talent too flight to a much higher level. Her voice carried off and echoed, bouncing off the walls like a breeze drifting through the air.

"My men were clothed all in green and they did ever wait on thee. All this was gallant to be seen—and yet thou wouldst not love me. Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves. Thou couldst desire no earthly thing but still thou hadst it readily. Thy music still to play and sing—and yet thou wouldst not love me. Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves."

"She truly is a remarkable girl," Firmin said to Andre. "She proves to be better than Daee." Andre nodded in agreement.

"Well, I will pray to God on high that thou my constancy mayst see. And that yet once before I die thou wilt vouchsafe to love me. Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves."

"Uno," Madam Giry murmured. She turned and glanced up into Box Five to see the familiar shadow lurking within the shadows. She swallowed hard and turned back to the soprano then clutched her chest.

"I think you bit off a bite too hard to chew."

"Ah, Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu, to God I pray to prosper thee for I am still thy lover true, come once again and love me. . Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold. And who but my lady greensleeves." As Uno finished off the song she let her voice echoe out even longer than ever before. She hung her head when she succeeded in accomplishing her challenge.

But still felt every inch defeated deep down inside.

"I can see we have just the talent we have been searching for since Daee left the stage," Firmin said through a grin. Uno raised her head and solemnly glanced his way. "You will make a _wonderful_ diva."

She stifled a smirk. _Great._

"That's great," she breathed out, wishing he would notice the regret singing the edges of her words but knowing he wouldn't care even if he had. "I can't wait."

-

Erik gulped the lodge of air that had gotten stuck in his throat while the ballerina sang. She claimed she had never been taught to sing a day in her life, could not sing scales, and just proved to be one of the most _amazing_ soprano's he has _ever_ heard in his entire existence.

And he has been around quite a way in life.

"My goodness," he breathed out, "you _do_ sing far better than Daee could have ever sung."

_And _I_ trained her since childhood._

"Uno…" he watched as she turned and walked off stage and instead of returning to the seats, headed into the dorms. Charline lept to her feet and chased after her friend.

"You will prove to pick up where Christine has left off," he plotted softly. "And I will _not_ take no for an answer."

-

"Uno!" Charline shouted. Uno picked up her pace and began jogging but Charline was still hot on her tail. "Uno wait up!"

"No—go away!" Uno called back over her shoulder. She reached the staircase to the second floor and rushed up the steps, taking two at a time.

"Leave me alone," she snapped when she saw Charline tracing her steps quickly. "_Please!_"

"Uno—you were magnificent!" Meg called out. Uno ignored the comment and ran down the corridor towards the staircase to take her into her dorm. When she reached the secluded area she quickly made her way towards her cot but froze when she heard her name being called out.

"Uno!" Uno turned around slowly. Charline was breathing heavy, her fist clutching tightly to the banister. "Why are you running away?"

"I can't sing for these people Charline," Uno blurted out. "I can't sing for them."

"Sure you can."

Uno shook her head. "They don't appreciate people—they just appreciate faces. I can't work for people who are like that."

Charline let go of the banister and closed the gap between the two of them. She reached for Uno's elbows and rubbed her friend's arms. "Sure you can," she urged on softly, smiling. "Just close your eyes and you can achieve it."

Uno shook her head. "You don't understand."

Charline frowned. "What don't I understand, Uno?"

Uno stared her in the eyes and sighed heavily. "These people will _only_ like me because I have a pretty voice. _Not_ because of who I am."

"Of course!"

"You don't get it!"

Charline paused and Uno backed out of her friend's grasp. "These people only go by what they see or hear!" She ranted. "If I ever miss a note or lose my voice halfway during the act they would laugh at me or hate me."

"You are scared?"

"_No!_" Uno screamed. "_Charline these people are demons of Hell just _waiting_ for a sinner to fall so they can throw sticks and stones at them!_" She knew it was bad for her voice but she didn't care; Charline needed to see the truth. "It's the same thing about Count Verafaunte with Meg—he said he would take her on a date if she proved to be magnificent yet if she fucked up he wouldn't even acknowledge her existence—people like that are _bad_!"

Charline blushed at Uno's choice of words. "Uno," she murmured, "you cannot fight this."

"I know," Uno groaned. She collapsed onto the bed and heaved a sigh. "I just wish _O.G._ would have broken his hands." Charline giggled. "I wish he hadn't of heard me when I was alone, singing to myself."

"He watches out for everyone," Charline said through a smile. She took a seat on her cot. "Your voice might have attracted him."

"Great," Uno groaned, "just what I need: an audience who only cares for publicity and publicity alone." She heaved another sigh once again before standing. "I need to go for a walk."

"Want me to go with you?"

Uno turned to her. "No—I need to be alone."

-

Erik brushed the mane of his steed until the hair was shiny. His new stable boy was a fine lad but he was new—there were still some things he hasn't learnt entirely and until he did, Erik wouldn't let him tend to his horse's needs. Until he was ready, unfortunately, he would have to do it.

He sighed and caught a glimpse of green velvet swading outside the stable. He frowned and glanced over at it, then smirked. Uno was apparently having a daily walk, casually strolling by some gossipers of the Paris's upper class society. Hercules whinned and threw his head back and Erik frowned down at his horse.

_Why is Hercules suddenly active when Uno comes into view?_

-

Returning to the stables wasn't necessarily on her mind but it was worth the walk. She discovered La Carlotta's insane talents of rehearsing for her audition and realized she had probably saved the theater in the long run. Whoever would pay good money to hear a toad sing would surely pay twice as much to hear a Goddess sing.

If there was one thing Uno was certain of by birth it was music.

"Now calm yourself James—I'm terribly sorry, Sir. My son has just returned from his London boarding school for a vacation." Uno glanced over to see a young boy sitting horseback and his father—appratently a rich folk—standing besides him with another couple rickfolk gathered around.

She turned and noticed a stable boy stepping out of an empty stall and smirked. _So the owner finally hired new help. About blood time, I'll say._

"Duke Baunte—I have spoken enough about my son Viscount Bonafaunte and this is he," Uno chuckled at their names as she passed by the crowd of high class, "Viscount James Bonafaunte."

The boy smiled and bowed his head. "Good day, Monsieur."

"Good day, young boy," Duke Baunte said in return.

Uno yawned and leaned against the side of the stable's brick wall for a moment, resting her knee and her body. She hasn't sleep in over two days and _now_ her body was starting to feel the pain. She heard light brush move and lowering her head Uno saw a small garden snake slither on by. She smirked, wondering how these Pariasian faces will take to the snake.

Instead of the humans freaking out, the horse holding the little six-year-old viscount whinnied and reeled back. He kicked up his two fron feet and then stomped, then kicked out again. The little boy panicked and held on tightly and his father tried to grab the reins.

Uno frowned.

_Heh… I guess the horse is afraid of the snake instead… I wonder why._

"James—James watch out!" His father shrieked. Out of no where, the horse took off running at a top speed with the little boy still attached. "_James!_"

Uno pushed off the wall and gasped. The horse charged away and the little boy continued to bounce dangerously in the air. Uno knew that if he were to fall, the impact would injure him permantly, if not kill him.

"_Kuso!_" (Translation from Japanese: "Shit!") She balled her fists, her heart racing, and whistled loudly. From inside the stables she heard heavy footsteps and a heavy landing. Suddenly, coming around the corner was a jetblack and oddly enough, shiny mane of fur, stallion.

Uno geared herself ready and the moment Hercules neared her, leapt into the air and latched onto him. She rode bareback several times in her youth while Relena tried to teach her the _proper_ way to ride a horse but found it much faster to just leap on and go at it.

In this case, her point proved to be correct.

"Come on, Hercules," Uno seethed out as she lowered her body to the steed's musculed neck. "We gotta stop that wild horse before he kills that boy!"

Hercules grunted and began picking up the pace. Uno's ears barely made out the screams in the background from the remaining rick folk. She knew her talent was about to pin her out, being the diva and all, but she was taught as a child that when you have the right to stop something bad from happening, you _have_ to give it a shot to your fullest.

She wasn't about to go against her childhood teachings anytime soon.

The other horse came into view and Uno noticed the boy's body had begun to slide off the back of the saddle. His little hands already lost the reins and he was holding the saddle as much as he could for dear life. She gritted her teeth together and clenched Hercules's mane tightly. The speed they ran was fast enough that she could just as easily die from it as well if _she_ weren't safe—but the kid's life was _far_ more important than her guilty, tarnished soul.

Uno pulled herself higher up onto the steed's neck and wrapped her legs around him. She twisted her ankles together and locked herself in place. Releasing her hold on the horse for a brief moment, Uno wrapped her braid around her neck and tied it together to keep it from flying loosely and risking her life. The black horse neared the fleeing brown one and soon she was close enough to catch the boy if he fell, being nearly directly behind the other one.

"_Now!_" Uno slipped and spun around on the steed's thick neck until she was hanging upside down. Trowa had taught her that there were many tricks with a saddle and a horse, but when there wasn't a saddle to be used she could still have the upperhand—as long as the balance he had taught her to have remained.

Uno held out her hands and waited for the boy to fall, knowing at any moment he would tumble. She _knew_ that from where the people outside the stable stood and watched—since they _weren't_ that far away—she was giving them one _hell_ of a show.

_Any minute…_

A big jump and soon the kick lost control of his gras and fell backwards. Uno grabbed him immediately, right before he hit the ground, and clutched him to her chest tightly. Unfortunately, Hercules had jumped just the same but when he landed she was even more in danger of getting injured. Uno winced when the rocks smacked the top of her head. Hercules picked up speed and began turning, still following the other horse. Little Jame's continued grasping Uno's dress and Uno released one arm from around his little body to grab a part of the flowing mane.

After she pulled herself back up and held onto James tightly and turned Hercules back towards the stables. The steed picked up speed and ran towards the theater. Jame's father rushed out to them and Uno lowered the boy to his arms.

"My dear woman—how-who—"

Uno cut him off. "My apologies Monsieur," she rushed out, "no time." She turned Hercules around and kicked him into action after the wild horse. The man frowned down at his son then returned to watch the amazing girl complete her strange heroic task.

Uno neared the other horse and let go of Hercles. She jumped up to a standing position and crouched, keeping her balance steady on the steed's back. Extending her arms to help keep her balance, Uno measured the amount of time she had remaining before she had to leap.

_Any minute…NOW!_

Uno kicked off the horse's back and leapt into the air. She immediately straddled the brown horse and grabbed the reins. The horse whinned and Uno locked her legs in place within the stirrups. She winced when he reeled back onto his hind legs and kicked his front ones in the air. As he stood high, Uno leaned forwards to keep her balance—and her distant appearance of a cowgirl—then began tugging at the reins. The horse landed and followed his directions, heading back in the direction of the Opera Populaire stables.

As soon as she finished her run she slid off the horse's back and whistled loudly. Hercules came jogging up besides her and returned to his stall. She turned to the group of shocked faces—the two rich folk and the man's son and the stable boy—and bowed her head. The boy remained glued to his father's chest and refused to let go.

"Monsieur—is your son alright?"

"I—yes he is fine," the man stumbled out. "Thank you."

Uno could tell he was forcing himself to be kind. She gritted her teeth together and locked her jaw. Her fists balled in secret by her side.

_Some people just wouldn't learn to be thankful and gracious for what they _do_ have. That boy had almost died and here this guy is, mad that a woman with this sort of talent had rescued him—let alone, _touched_ him!_

"How did you learn all of that?" The duke chimed in.

Uno turned to him. She raised her chin and squared her shoulders back to show him that his status was not a challenge in her eyes. He didn't matter one single bit.

"I was taught in nearly every aspect of the world when I was little," she explained. "Western riding was only a _portion_ of the horseback riding I was taught."

He snorted and turned back to the little boy's father. "Apparently it's only the European countries that preach to their women about side saddle and the proper ways," he scoffed out.

Uno's eyes narrowed. She curtsied and suppressed a darker grin than the one she gave off. "If you may excuse me, Monsieurs—but I felt that since I had the ability to protect that child's life it was _my_ responsibility to see it done, since neither one of _you_ apparently cared to do it yourselves." Their mouths gaped open in alarm and her grin widened to a smug look. "It may only be the Western countries, but doing the _right_ thing is _far_ more important than any _one's_ own status of publicity."

She turned on her heels and left them in the dirt.

* * *

**Anyone notice that she whisteled for Hercules to come to her and he shoved past Erik to go to her? Hehehe... I hope you all caught that.**


	21. The Perfect Assassin

**(sighs) okay... took all day to write, it seems... I began at around 4-5pm and now its 2am... and I just finished. BUT, I had to break for about 2 hours to eat dinner and relax... so yeah.**

**32 PAGES! Wahoo! Okay... enjoy... the title is 'The Perfect Assassin', Uno's OTHER nickname... and this is why. (winks) Can ya see why? In due time--actually, it's coming up quite quickly--you will get explained on why she has two nicknames, what they mean, and why she claims each one goes to each of her two names.**

**And incase you are lost regarding the high society stats:  
**_--- viscount, count/baron/duke/lord, emperor/king/kaiser/tsar  
------- kaiser is the ruler of germany  
------- tsar is the ruler of russia  
_**I hope you can understand that.  
Viscount is the lowest, then count and baron and duke and lord are next in line (all of those are the same--that is why it is slashed), then emperor and kind and kaiser and tsar are the highest (again, they are all the same, which is why it is slashed between each term). Each term between slashes are different places they are called.**

**To those who have read DC1 will notice a certain person in here, by the end of the chapter (won't say who) that has returned as somebody else. And to those that know of him will know why the action Uno deals with this guy is so hard for her to bare with.**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T REPORT ME FOR THIS CHAPTER! YOU HAVE TO BE MATURE ABOUT THIS UPDATE, _PLEASE!_**

* * *

**- Chapter Twenty One -**

"Here you are Mademoiselle Maxwell. These are your lines for the play in three weeks—are you certain you will not be needing any help?" Monsieur Reyer frowned in concern at his new Diva.

Uno gulped back her lodged fear and glanced down at the script in her hands. "No Monsieur," she muttered aloud, "I believe I can handle this."

He nodded and turned away. Uno raised her head and stared out over the audience seating before turning around. La Carlotta was standing on the side, brimming in anger at her new partner. Earlier in that hour she had tried to question Uno's motives but the ex-ballerina answered truthfully with, "I really don't wish to do this, either."

La Carlotta only sneered her even more then ranted off at the conductor.

Uno tucked the script beneath her arms and headed back towards the dorms. Her old ballerina partners glanced in her direction and smiled faintly, giving Uno the hint that they were hoping she wouldn't disrespect them for moving up on the ladder. Uno frowned but continued heading towards the dormitory. On the way up the steps, one of La Marcella's friends stopped before her and frowned.

"Uno," she trailed off. Uno stopped on the fifth step and knitted her brows together.

"What?" She bit back sharply.

The girl bowed her head. "Marcella hasn't returned."

"Not my fault." Uno shoved the girl to the side and finished accending the stairs. "Do you think I had anything to do with it?"

The girl frowned up at her. "What do you mean?"

Uno spun around and snarled at her. "Oh well, after all, I _am_ a witch! It's only necessary for her circle of whores to think such a thing of me!"

The girl winced against Uno's harsh choice of words and sighed. She followed Uno back up the stairs and into the room. "I never believed what the other girls insisted about you," she shot back. "I was the quiet one of the group. When I heard Marcella was planning on poisoning you I tried to stop them but they warned me to stay back."

Uno snorted and tossed the script onto her cot. "Right," she retorted. "You _really_ tried to stop that bitch from killing Charline—oh let me tell you about it."

"I did!"

"You did _not_!" Uno spun and roared out at the top of her lungs. "You did _not_ attempt to try and save Charline's life! If I hadn't known the experience in medical treatment as I had, Charline would have been _dead_ and you _whores_ would be walking freely!"

"Uno—"

"So don't you _dare_ tell me you _tried_ to stop La Marcella from pouring ground glass into Charline's cup of tea because the more lies you say the worst your fate will be when you meet Shinigami!" She breathed heavy and turned away. With the back of her hand, Uno wiped the dripping saliva from off her lips. "You had better be warned—lying to me digs you an even _deeper_ hole in the ground."

The girl lowered her gaze to the floor and locked her worrying fingers together. "Who is… Shinigami?"

Uno turned her back to the ballerina. "My father," she murmured. "He was a man of right and no wrong. Truth and no lies." She turned back to her and hardened her gaze. "So you see… the more you lie, the deeper the grave he digs for you."

The color drained from the girl's face. "You really _are_ the devil's child."

Uno closed her eyes and hung her head. "Go away, Mercedes."

Mercedes bit her lower lip and fled. Uno sighed, the stress within her chest aching to the point where she would scream out in pain. Her breathing became jagged and harsh but Uno kept her control in check. If she lost herself now she would be forever sent to the asylum.

_God I wish I could resurrect the dead and kill Marcella once again, just for the agrivation her name brings to me._

But she knew that if she could resurrect the dead she would have done so before the vortext sent her spiraling through time.

-

Closing her eyes, Uno could still see the words in her mind. She frowned and tried to blur her vision beneath her closed lids but to no avail. She could still see the music notes and the words for which to sing. Groaning, she closed the book and laid it on her chest. After heaving a sigh, Uno felt a little bit better.

But only a little bit.

"My goodness, Uno!" Meg's voice blurred out. Uno grunted and listened to the footsteps hammering her way. Meg collapsed on the side of the bed and began tapping Uno's shoulders.

"I'm awake," Uno groaned out. "What do you want, Meg?" She opened her eyes for proof.

"You have been invited to the Prime Ball in three weeks!"

She frowned. "Three weeks?" Opening her eyes she found Meg's face radiant with glee. "That's when Halloween is."

Meg sat back on her haunches. "Yes but the Prime Ball is two days before Halloween." She suddenly grabbed the closest of Uno's wrists. "But since you became a Diva you are available to go—and you are _required_!"

Uno sat up and laid the script on the bed. She turned and hung her legs off the side of the bed then faced Meg's cheery smile. After taking a deep breath, she prepared her speech.

"I _have_ to go, you say?" Meg nodded. "On who's word?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "Uno you do not understand… the Masquerade Ball you are able to ignore but should you ignore the Prime Ball, it will lower your auction of being on stage," she explained. "You will allow La Carlotta to carry on as she does, label yourself a recluse who will not bother to greet her fans, and you will put in a bad image for the Owner. Also if you do not go, you will lower your status and you will not sing often, thus not giving you enough pay in return."

Uno hung her head. "I have no choice then," she murmured. "Damnit."

Meg flushed but held her tongue. She released the diva's wrist and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Uno—you shan't miss this moment."

Uno turned to her suddenly with wonder in her violet-blue eyes. "When is the Masquerade Ball?"

_If I can miss any of them I'm going to miss as much as I can._

Meg smiled calmly. "It's the New Years Eve Ball."

"I'll miss that ball and attend the Prime Ball—happy now?" She pushed off the bed and put her back to the petite blonde. "Then I can get some of my own needed privacy."

Meg stood up and turned to face her. "But Uno… what will you wear to the Prime Ball? You cannot hide behind a masquerade mask."

Uno turned around and frowned over at Meg. "I'll think of something."

"You can't just choose _any_ ordinary dress, Uno," Meg explained. "This has to be the most elegant attire that you may own. It's as if the King and Queen of England will be attending—as if the Lordships of_ every_ land will be there."

Uno smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "Then I'll dress as Queen Uno."

Meg giggled behind a hand. "I doubt you can come up with a dress to fit _that_ title."

Uno's eyes twinkled with the daring challenge and her smirk formed into an all out, meschevious grin. "Oh believe me… I can."

-

After the rehearsals released Charline came bounding up the stairs into the dorms and skidded to a halt when she found Uno sitting on the floor with parchment scattered around her. A bottle of ink sat just off to the right and the quill stood out in her hands. There were splotches of ink on Uno's fingertips, telling Charline that the braided woman had been working hard at whatever it was she was planning, for hours.

"No matter how much I redraw this thing it never turns out the way I want it," Uno murmured. She sensed Charline's presence but didn't look up. Charline took slow steps as she closed the gap between the two of them. "I've tried to catch the essence in my head but still, it doesn't work, correctly."

"Uno," Charline purred out in weary, "what are you doing?"

"Creating a dress for the Prime Ball."

Charline stiffened. "You are attending?" She gasped out.

"I have no choice," Uno raised her head and frowned up at her friend. "Meg said I will lower my rating if I don't go."

"Well," Charline breathed out before taking a seat on the edge of her bed, "I wish you luck then." Uno glanced back down at the drawings.

"The only ones needing luck will be everyone other than me who attend," Uno scoffed out. She frowned and glanced over at the other designs. "And the drawings I've come up with."

"Well whatever you choose I'm certain you will look exquisite."

"That's the problem," She muttered in return, "I _can't_ choose."

Charline raised her hands to the bun on her head and wiggled the tight hairclasp until she felt the tension pulling no more. She released a heavy breath and turned to watch the other ballerinas step into the dorms. Mercedes paused when she noticed Charline and Uno together and bit her lower lip. Charline frowned but shrugged it off and turned back to her friend.

"Are you writing more letters to the devil?" One of the other girls questioned casually.

"Nah," Uno replied, "I'm just sketching out designs for a dress."

Another girl snorted. "Probably something to wear on Halloween so you can impress the devil and hope he takes your body."

"No actually this is for the Prime Ball," Uno replied. She frowned and picked up an earlier designed sketch. The girl gasped and took two steps closer to the braided wonder sitting on the floor.

"You are kidding me!"

"No—actually I'm being forced to go."

"But you are only a mere whore of the night! A witch! And you _have_ to go?"

"That's what I said," Uno choked out on her next breath. She chuckled and faced the alarmed girl. "I mean—I don't care about meeting all the faces of high society but I'll do it because it holds off on my ratings."

"Pray you bump into the devil," she scoffed back. "Mind him to carry you off into Hell."

Uno glanced back down at her papers. "Eh," she shrugged her shoulders, "I'll be glad to get away from whores like you for a change."

The girl's gasped but Mercedes only turned away and retreated into the washroom. "Whores?" One of them shouted. "We are no such things!"

"Fooled me."

"_Witch!_"

Uno frowned and shook her head. "You'd think they would stop once Marcella disappeared." She raised her head to the girls and leant back agains the side of the bed. "Speaking of which—have you found her yet?"

"I… no," she admitted shyly. "We have not."

Uno smirked. "Have you even gone to the police yet?"

The girl sighed. "They have been informed but are not placing Marcella's disappearance on their top priority."

Uno shrugged and blew it off. She turned back to the papers. "Not my fault."

_Though actually it is._

"I'm certain it is," she returned. The blood in Uno's body ran cold for a brief moment. She turned and faced the girl, her brows knitting together in weary.

"Come again?"

"I'm certain you had put a spell on her."

"A spell?" She felt her breath return into her lungs. "That's it?"

"You did something else?"

Uno chuckled darkly. "If that's all your creative minds can come up with—I'll be damned when you find her roaming the streets as the whore she is."

"Marcella is _not_ a whore!" The girl shouted in return.

Uno snorted. "Oh please."

"She has stopped her prostitution when she became a ballerina—_everyone_ knows that!"

Uno's brows shot to her head and Charline stared in shock at the outrageous ballet girl. "So she _was_ working for the devil?" Uno mimicked. "And all this time I thought she was a saint."

"Don't play coy with me!" The girl's eyes narrowed. "I will be keeping an eye on you—all of us will be."

Uno smirked. "Good. I have a larger fan club than I even intended to have."

"You've been warned." The girl turned away from Uno and began digging out her night gown from her dresser.

"Funny," Uno raised her voice and turned back to the girl with a humored smirk. "The last time somebody warned me it shot back at them even worse."

The girl turned around and sneered her. "I _will_ be watching you, closely."

Uno's grin remained and her eyes became glued to the hazel orbs upon the other woman's face. _Excellent,_ she thought to herself. _Because that gives me a way to mess with your mind._

-

The following day Uno woke as early as she normally does and dressed herself. She stepped into the kitchen for her breakfast and sat down with her usual three pastries and glass oc tea, then began eating. By the time the theater started to come to life she had already finished her meal. Charline passed her on the way back to the dorms and stopped. Meg arrived shortly afterwards.

"Where are you going, Uno?" Meg asked sweetly.

"I've practically read the script a thousand times since I had it. I'm going to go out for a walk on the town before I come back later and try memorizing the notes."

Charline smiled. "Are you going to seek out a conductor who can help train your voice to sing opera?"

Uno felt taken aback and cringed at her. "Definitely not—I sing just fine. I wasn't born with the gift to sing opera—just to sing anything else."

Meg frowned. "But you will not be raised in the status of being a diva and that means La Carlotta will still be the leading star of the opera house."

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "Fine by me—saves me the hassal of becoming a famous star. I'm not into all that posh atmosphere."

Charline frowned then turned back to Meg. "Well… shall we?"

Meg smiled and waved Uno off. "See you later, Uno."

"Have fun, Uno," Charline added in.

Uno nodded and watched them disappear into the café. She sighed and felt dread pile up in her chest. After no longer sitting and eating with her friends and having the ability to work with them, she found she was starting to miss them. Her brows knitted together, recalling the last time she had a friend she could feel remorse on leaving behind.

It wasn't since Theresa had died and that was well over eight years ago.

Or has it not even happened yet?

Shaking her head of the depressing thoughts, Uno turned and retreated to the dormitory to gather her sheets. She didn't know where her sudden gathering of human emotion came from; it wasn't in her nature to feel sad for people. She had been locked in a closet for too long. If her mentors found out she was starting to feel sad for the past she would be locked in the closet again.

Uno gathered her papers and folded them up. She stuffed them into her riticule and prepared to go. After glancing at her reflection and approving her deep red dress, she turned and left the room. The bustle of life was loud and ambitious as they began creating the props for the new act. The halls were crowded and littered with people and as Uno pushed her way through she had a sense of being watched.

She reached a corner and turned to examine her surrounding but instead of catching the eyes making her feel nauseaus, she found a crazy back of the theater. No body was staring at her but she still felt the cold chill of being watched, running down her spine.

_It's nothing_, she told herself. _You're imagining things._

Uno turned and headed for the exit of the building.

-

Erik smirked, knowing she could sense him watching her but she couldn't pinpoint where. She stared down the halls but he wasn't standing in her line of vision. She stared at the people filing in around her, but he wasn't one of them. She narrowed her eyes and raised her gaze up to the rafters above but she still has yet to find him.

If only she were to turn around and stare at herself through the floorlength mirror, she would be closer to finding him.

"I wonder how long you plan to hide, Mademoiselle Maxwell," Erik said bemused. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. "How many weeks will pass before you give up this façade of false personas? How many months until you give into the truth that lurks within your mind?"

Erik knew she wasn't who she claimed to be on the outside. She wouldn't hibernate in the dark on the rooftop and cry. She wouldn't shelter away her voice and talent of singing. He was preparing a day for when he would go to her and offer to teach her Opera, but until then he needed to remain a mystery to her cobalt blue and violet eyes.

-

The bell rang when the door to the boutique shop opened. Madam Wilma stepped into the show room, alarmed from her dressmaking, and smiled when she noticed the young girl. Uno glanced around at the frilly dresses displayed and frowned when she noticed one that looked vaguely familiar to her.

Only she has seen it in her past—also known as, the future.

"May I help you, my dear?" The woman said kindly. Uno glanced up and saw a woman with curly gray hair piled around her head. She smiled upon sensing the woman's true nature and felt a sense of relief wash through her.

"I want a dress made."

The woman smiled brightly and clasped her hands together. "What for—therefore I know the extent to design it."

"Well I already have a couple of designs I seem to like," Uno explained. She opened her riticule and took out the folded sheets of parchment. "I just don't know how to sew."

The woman nodded her head and took the offered parchment. "You shouldn't have need to worry about sewing, my dear. If men knew their women sewed it would be the end of that happy marriage."

Uno frowned. "Why?"

Madam Wilma gazed up at her solemnly. "Why… no woman should sew unless she is a seamstress—and even then, those women struggle in vain to marry. The only reason Alfred appreciates my talents is because I sew for him."

"I don't make a notion to care for the world anymore," Uno scoffed back. "I've had enough of pleasing everyone for my life."

"Nonesense," the woman waved her hand in the air and turned towards the back of the room. "In this day and age a woman should be blessed to have the opportunity to have both dreams together."

Uno followed her to the back and smirked when she heard the expected gasp. "This is a magnificent design!"

"Which one?"

The woman stepped up to the counter and raised her head to see Uno staring back at her commonly. She glanced back down at the designs sketched out in her gasp then placed the multitude of papers on the countertop. Uno stepped up to the glass countertops and peered into the displays below. There were a few tiaras she had to stiffle a smile at.

"All of these are extremely elegant," Wilma murmured. "Forwhatever reason are you wishing for one of these to be made?"

Uno raised her head and noticed the woman's eyes were glazed in a sparkling brown. Her face was wrinkled, showing her age, and her hair was styled just perfectly. The calloused fingertips Uno felt brush against her knuckles when the woman took the parchment told the new diva that the older woman has worked many long and hard days.

"I'm the new diva for the Opera Populaire," she explained. "I have to attend the Prime Ball."

The woman's mouth dropped a little bit more and she stared at Uno in complete shock. "B-but what you hand me are designs of a queen, not a diva."

Uno smirked, knowing where this was leading. "What do you mean? The last I recall, the diva is the queen of song."

"But this is _too_ elegant," the woman fought back.

The old phrase Relena once shared with Uno returned and in just the same context it was originally spoken, Uno said, "There is never too much elegance when it comes to looking your best. You want to enlighten the masses at the same time you envision your dream as a fairytale princess. The choice of elegance is nothing short of personal opinion, thought out by one who so delusionly thinks upon it."

The woman closed her lips and swallowed. "I-I suppose so," she stammered out. Uno smiled and glanced back down at the tiaras. "But it will cost many a franc note."

"Not a problem," Uno waved her hand at the comment and turned away.

"By the looks of it, about fifty thousand."

_That_ got her attention!

Uno's head snapped back to the woman and gawked. "Fifty _thousand_ francs!"

"Well you have an abundant amount of fabric here, not to mention a wide assortment of jewls, and the color tones are _definitely_ not an easy thing to find in this town—even though we are on the highrise of society," she explained with an air of whimsical. "But you do recall that the Prime Ball is in three weeks and you have be build you this exquisite gown in such little time." She turned to Uno's gawking face. "Don't you?"

"I… um… yeah," she spat. Uno tore her stunned gaze away and down at the tiaras once more.

"And you can't just expect to waltz into the ballroom wearing only this gown, either," she added in with a breeze. Uno turned back to see her scanning each design. "I mean, you need to wear some jewelry that will match the outfit and by the way this looks, perhaps even a tiara." Uno swallowed. "But with all this elegance, you will look like a queen."

Uno lowered her head as the woman stared a there. "Do you wish for that?"

She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. With a swift nod of her head, she realized her statement to Count Verafaunte will have to continue being her scapegoat. At least it was _partially_ true.

"I can handle it and where I come from, it's only less than what I am accustomed to."

Madam Wilma frowned and lowered the papers to the countertop. "I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle?"

Uno remained stoic in her regal fashion as she returned the stare back at the older woman. "I am to be Empress in Japan."

The color drained from the woman's face as she gasped. "Empress!"

Uno nodded her head and turned to stare at a brightly shaded dress off to the side of the room. "My family felt it best that I learn about the many nations around the wold. I have lived in San Deigo, in Texas, in the American Colonies, and a single year in England," Uno slipped in. She turned back to the woman and stifled a small smile. "I _was_ a ballerina here by my vocal talent had delivered me to an even broader side."

The woman relaxed and nodded in acceptance. "I can see your family will be proud of you."

Uno nodded in return. "When I turn twenty and one, I will return to Japan and marry the Emperor, who is awaiting me as we speak."

She beamed at the braided wonder. "And how old are you now, my dear?"

"I will be eighteen in three weeks," Uno replied, careful to keep her true birthdate out of the statement. "At the end of this year, I will most likely move to Spain and live my life there, then perhaps another country before making my return to Japan."

"Well," Wilma glanced down at the papers, "I can always alter these designs, for you." Uno frowned. "To make it more of an oriental look, for you." She smiled up at Uno with charm laced in her eyes. Uno frowned but shook her head. "No?"

"I'm sorry Madam Wilma but if I dress as elaborate as I really am, I will alarm the many who will attend the ball. Very few know who I really am," Uno explained. "Besides… I will be wearing enough of my kimono when I return home."

Wilma nodded in understanding. "I see. I shall keep your secret safe, Empress."

Uno faked a blush and turned away. "Please…"

"So," the woman breathed out. She turned back to the designs at hand. "What colors would you prefer?"

"Regal," Uno replied. "But," she paused to allow a shudder pass through, "close to white."

The woman nodded and lifted out a pen and parchment. She dipped the pentip into the ink bottle near by then began scribbling down the replies to her questions.

"The jewls?"

"Just dress me up in anything elegantly white and regal," Uno returned. The woman nodded then began jotting down different things Uno couldn't read right away. She lowered the pen and picked up a tape measure from the shelf behind her.

"I need you to hold out your arms, Mademoiselle…?"

"Uno," Uno replied before smiling sheepishly. "Just Uno."

The woman nodded then stepped up to her. "Uno."

She began measuring Uno's body and writing down the measurements as she took them. Uno closed her eyes and waited until she finished measuring her waist, her shoulders widths, her arms, legs, torso, and even full height. When she finished she stepped in front of Uno again and wrapped the tape measure around her bust.

"Good Heaven's Uno," Wilma gasped. "You are to be eighteen soon and already you have filled out completely!"

Uno frowned. "That isn't normal?"

"No!" The woman scribbled down the measurements then turned back to the young girl in alarm. "Women do not usually quit growing until _after_ they reach their mid twenties and even then they still grow more for when they become with children."

Uno glanced off to the side in wonder. "I wonder why I'm so different."

_I could give you a list of reasons_, Zero shot back. Uno rolled her eyes and snorted.

"Right—whatever." She turned back to the woman and smirked. "I don't mind—perhaps I'll grow larger than most ordinary girls."

Wilma frowned. "I should be a bit worried, if I were you, though."

_Which is why you are not,_ Zero shot back.

Uno bit her tongue to give herself some pain, something Zero can take to thought over the insults prying at the back of her mind. She stifled a smirk. "You think it'll take long to make?"

"Well," Wilma turned around and returned to her previous spot behind the counter. She glanced down at the designs. "I can mix and match these designs but it may take some time."

"What if I pay you more than fifty thousand francs?" Uno negotiated.

_What!_ Zero shouted in her mind.

"What?" Madam Wilma raised her head and stared at Uno in complete shock. "More?"

"Persay… a hundred thousand," Uno stated.

_One hundred thousand francs! Are you fucking nuts—wait… of course you are…_

"One hundred thousand," Wilma breathed out in a whisper. "Sure you aren't serious!"

Uno shrugged and glanced down at the tiaras. "I was delivered enough money to last me a life time," Uno explained to her. "I did not bring my elegance ball gown because I can not always look myself when I am at just _any_ ball. I can gather the amount of payment you require and perhaps more—for the accessories."

Wilma felt the breath stick in her lungs and she had to swallow hard to get it to go down. She gasped when she gathered more air. "Well I suppose," she murmured, glancing down at the sheets in her hands, "a hundred thousand francs will be enough."

"It _is_ sufficient enough to give you for a gown you are _not_ entirely creating on your own. I gave you three weeks, one hundred thousand francs, and all the designs I would like for you to use up," Uno expressed through the air of demands and regal authority. Wilma felt her limbs go numb at the directness Uno showed. "You _will_ have it complete by the time I have to attend the Prime Ball or I will deliver my family's Cage Master here and he will deliver you to Japan to await your execution for mistreating the Empress. You will be paid when I come to pick up the dress in exactly three weeks." The color drained from the woman's body. Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back.

"Until then," she turned and left the building in the way she was once taught. Behind, when the bell rang out to sound her exit, Madam Wilma remained motionless and terrified.

She would definitely _not_ disappoint Empress Uno!

-

_Now how do you expect to come up with one hundred thousand francs?_ Zero berated. _You don't have that type of money and you're not ruler of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations in _this_ era, Uno!_

"I'll think of a way," Uno said softly. She ducked her head to ignore passerbys on the street and keep to herself. The last thing she needed was for people to hear her talking to herself. What would she say when she doesn't lie? The truth would get her thrown into the asylum quicker than ever!

'Oh yes, I hear voices in my head—well, just one but it sometimes sounds like two or three!'

She closed her eyes and groaned. "Trust me. I'll come up with a way. I _am_ Shinimegami, after all."

_No—you are The Perfect Assassin_, Zero returned. Uno opened her eyes and frowned. _Shinimegami rarely comes out—she's who killed La Marcella._

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "None-the-less I will think of something."

_You better think of something soon because you are running out of time. Three weeks may give a woman a long time to make a dress but by the look we both recall seeing on her face, she will have it ready sooner than planned to not _disappoint_ her majesty._ Zero spoke in a mimick of sarcasm.

"Trust me… I know what I'm doing."

_Then do it quick, Maxwell. Sell yourself if you must—because it will take you three weeks to save up if you become a whore._

Uno paused and turned to glance out at the street where people were passing by on carriages. She never thought about the possibilities of prostitution. She wouldn't actually let the man do anything to her other than foreplay—and where she comes from, foreplay was every base leading to home. But she has done similary things in the past when she needed money.

She's done it before so she can definitely do it again.

_You don't have the clothing to do such a thing,_ Zero reminded her. _You don't look like a wench and you're covered in scars._

"But nobody sees the scars and my clothes won't matter to a count," Uno murmured. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed the symbol of a duke on the side of a carriage. "Or a duke."

-

When Uno returned to the dorms she didn't realize how much time had passed since she left. Apparenlt she spent a good several hours on the streets and a good hour or two in the boutique shop because the rehearsals had just ended. She ignored the faces of all who glanced her way and made her way up to her dorms. She was amazed to find it filled with people.

"Why hello there, Witch," the same girl, Priscella, said when she saw Uno enter the room. Charline turned and smiled when she saw her friend. "Did you have a terrific day in the town?"

"I did," Uno smiled at the girl, "thanks."

The girl's eyes narrowed. "I will carry on Marcella's legend if she is never found, and it will be your fault she is missing."

Uno shrugged her shoulders, knowing they won't have any proof on her of the _true_ whereabouts of the Italian girl. "Fine by me—I'll be sure to write you daily when I'm helping the good doctor out."

"Helping?" Priscella scoffed. "Hah! The only help you'll do is by kneeling down before him—like the whore that you are."

Uno frowned and turned back to see the girl sneering her. She shook her head and returned to the dresser. Priscella left the room and the rest of the girls followed behind. Charline sat down on the side of the bed and sighed when she watched Uno lift up her diary.

"Marcella disappears and somebody else takes up her role as wenching, it seems," Charline explained. "I only wonder who will be next should Priscella vanish as well."

"I don't know," Uno murmured. She flipped through the pages until she reached the back of the book where there were only a couple blank slots left. "But I know she has to stop before she _does_ disappear like Marcella had."

_And this time, Maxwell… do what you forgot to do to Marcella,_ Zero insisted. _Show her what you had to do to women in _our_ time._

"Madam Giry had invited me to join her and Meg for dinner tonight," Charline smiled. Uno nodded. "And you are invited, as well."

"Sorry—busy."

Charline frowned. "But you will be dining with the Viscount and his wife. You know how Christine loves to gossip with us—and I'm certain she will have lots to discuss with you, following in her footsteps. Don't forget, she was a ballerina to start with, as well."

"I know," Uno murmured. She jotted down the date of her new entry then began scribbling her entry in binary. "But I'm busy. Give them my regards."

"What are you busy with?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting a duke about the payment of my dress," she stated. "He said he will pay me the one hundred thousand francs it takes to build my Prime Ball dress."

Charline gasped. "One hundred thousand! Uno, that is far expensive for this ball!"

Uno shrugged it off. "It's nothing compared to home."

"Of course it is! Texas is _nothing_ compared to the high society of Paris but you are spending far too much for this gown." Charline shot out. Uno raised her head and stared at her friend. "Do you not understand, Uno? Even seventyfive thousand francs is a lot."

"The original amount was to be fifty thousand," Uno explained. Charline sagged her shoulders. "But I raised the price to demand the dress be built sooner."

"So you will be meeting a duke—how do you know of this said duke?"

"I don't," Uno shrugged and returned to her entry. "He heard me talking to myself about it and offered to help. However, his wife—or mistress, I suppose—was not to know and that's why he said he could make the meeting with me tonight. We can make it appear to be an outing for wenching."

Charline frowned. "So what shall I tell the Viscount? That you are to meet a duke for a wenching meeting?"

Uno shot a glare to her friend. "You do and you won't have eyes for the rest of your life," she snarled. Charline's brows furrowed and she squared her shoulders back, indicating to Uno that she wasn't intimated in the least.

"Just tell them that I have a lot of stress going on through my mind from this diva business," Uno brushed off. "It's the truth, anyways. So much to do all at once and I haven't sung a note since I was nine."

"Nine?"

Uno frowned and glanced off to the side in deep thought. "Or was it later than that?" She rolled her eyes and shrugged it off. "Oh well—just tell them that."

Charline sighed. "You will owe me a lot, Uno."

"Fine," Uno breathed out. "If he gives more I will pay you the difference."

Charline gasped. "Pay me the difference—Uno! I am _not_ to be bought in such a way."

Uno shrugged again as she turned to the next page and dipped the quill. "Then I'll buy you something with it—either way, I'll pay you back."

"Not throughout cash but should I need something in return you will help," Charline demanded.

"Duh," Uno scoffed out. "What are friend's for?"

Charline sighed and stood up. "I need to prepare for tonight—I wish you would join but your dress _is_ important… and so is your needed peace."

Uno nodded. "Yep—ain't that for sure?"

Charline rolled her eyes and gathered a pale pink, satin dress from the armoir and left. Uno eyed her as she stepped into the washroom then snickered and shook her head.

"Poor thing," she mumbled softly. "Doesn't know when to give up."

Charline stuck her head out of the washroom and growled out at her, "And one of these days I will shun down your stubborn personality, Mademoiselle Uno Maxwell!"

She slammed the door closed again and Uno cracked up laughing.

-

Uno peeked down through the knook in the floorboards before she made her descent. She needed to sneek past the people's eyes without letting them catch her up and about in a flimsy evening gown. What Uno had planned would put her entire current life's work into jeapordy and if Priscella—the apparently _new_ threat—found out, she would be in even deeper shit than ever before.

No body was around so she quickly bundled up her skirts and fled the room. Wrapped securely around her body was her black cloak and making haste, Uno made certain it didn't flow out behind her as she rushed towards the nearest exit. A gathering of people were coming her way and Uno quickly ducked into the shadows. She watched and waited until the staggerers passed by before make another run for it. Finally when she was outside the Opera Populaire, she could relax her pacing heart.

She stole a glance around her surroundings and found herself alone. Part of her was thinking of taking Hercules but if she was going to play the part of a whore, she wouldn't be able to get away with having a horse. Instead, she gathered her wits and released her skirts to allow the flow to swirl around her legs. Taking long strides, Uno rushed towards the town. If anybody were to catch her out late at night they wouldn't be able to notice it was her. She had made certain her braid was tucked into the back of her cloak, hidden from any onlookers.

Just as the reached the town a carriage pulled up in front of the theater. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed it was the Viscounts ride. Madam Giry, Meg, and Charline each stepped out of the carriage. Christine gave Madam Giry a hug and bid her goodnights to both her friends before returning to the carriage. Uno covered her head with the cloak so she could hide her face in the shadows. Raoul's carriage pulled around and passed by her and on the way he nodded down at her.

Uno narrowed her eyes and watched him with a smirk on her lips. The stupid idiot didn't even notice the outlines of the girl's face. He disappeared in the distance and stealing a glimpse of the theater for one final time—and seeing her friends were inside the building—Uno continued her way into town. The street lights were starting to dim, indicating the late hour. The streets began to get lower in population and when she noticed Madam Wilma's shop not far up ahead she had to stiffle a smirk. The old woman's interior light was on, indicating that she was working to get her orders complete.

She sighed and stepped down the street side a little bit. A few staggering bums flirted with other prostitues, a very glancing her way, but none of them made any notion to ask her price. Uno took a deep breath and curled in her fingers.

_Are you certain about this?_ Zero asked.

"I have to be," Uno murmured back. "I need the money."

_Do you think Duo would have done something like this to get money?_

Uno narrowed her eyes and leant against a brick wall of a restaurant. "He's a pick-pocket," she returned. "But I'm sure if the need arose, he would."

_I see… well then… let us hope you know what you're doing._

Uno sighed. "I do."

_And will you let him fuck you?_

She narrowed her eyes in response.

_Will you let him take what he wants or will you kill him?_

"Depends," she seethed out. "If he actually means to do this then yes—I will do what I need to do."

_I see… then it looks as if you have more of him in you than I have expected you to have._ The laughter that followed was her own voice deep within her mind.

Uno's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" She growled. "Duo wouldn't kill to get money."

_No… but your grandfather would._

The blood in her veins ran cold. "What are you talking about?" Nothing replied and Uno growled. "_Bakayarou!_ Answer me," she seethed. "What are you talking about—I never even knew my grandfather, let alone my mother." (Translation from Japanese: "Asshole!")

"Mademoiselle—how much ye be?" Uno turned to her right to see a dirty drunk fishing money out of his pockets. His shirt tail was untucked and his suspenders were dropped. It looked as if he had already bought a whore and didn't spend enough.

Uno snorted. "Too much for the likes of you."

He narrowed his eyes. "I have ten francs—you be fine for ten francs."

"I'm worth at _least_ fifty!" Uno growled back. "Now pay fifty or leave."

"Bah—ye wench are pitiful!" He turned away and left.

Uno sighed and laid her head back, her eyes closing. She heaved a deep breath and let it out in a long, loud sigh. Eventually some rich folk will go to her but until then, she'd stay away from everyone else.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle, but are you a prostitute?" Uno frowned and opened her eyes to see a well dressed man standing to her left. He was dressed in expensive clothing, a top hat included, with a cane in his right hand.

Perfect.

"I have never done such a thing before and…"

"Monsieur…?" Uno smiled, fluttering her eye lids. She stood up and clasps her hands before her.

"Baron Von Clarion," he replied. "I am new in town and I have never called upon a prostitute before."

She nodded slowly. "I understand."

"How much are you for a single night?"

"Well," Uno paused to fake a frown, "I'm an expensive one."

He smirked. "I had a feeling."

She _did_ frown at that. "Pardon me, Monsieur?"

"You don't look like the rest I have seen when I traveled the streets," he explained. "I have been searching each night of the past several weeks for a mistress of class and I haven't found one." Uno's mouth slowly parted in thought. "Perhaps I may call on you often and eventually marry you."

"Um… heh," she smirked, "perhaps."

Uno glanced down in an attempt to appear flattered. It worked as he lifted her chin with his finger and kissed her. Uno's heart hammered to a halt but she knew what he was doing. On the job already, Uno opened her lips and bid him entry. His tongue tasted of brandy and she swivvled hers around in, letting him get a taste of her heated mouth in return.

After a minute he broke the kiss and gasped for air. He stared deep into her eyes and felt the world falling apart.

"Mademoiselle… please, how much for this lonely night?"

"One hundred thousand francs," she breathed out. "But for you, I'll make it fifteen thousand."

He chuckled. "If you desire one hundred thousand I can afford you to stay with me for a week."

Uno felt a grin tug at the corners of her lips. "Well then, Clarion… one week it shall be."

He smiled and bowed gracefully, holding his hat in his hand as he did so. "You _won't_ be disappointed, Mademoiselle…?"

"Uno," she answered. She knew she wouldn't be disappointed. "And perhaps I may eventually stay longer than one little week." He stood back up and frowned at her but she returned his puzzled expression with a wink of her own. "After all, I'm costly for the knowledge I possess."

-

The Baron Von Clarion had his coach deliver him and his new mistress to his mansion just outside Paris, opposite the side of town from the opera house. Uno had never been so far away but she didn't let it affect her. Instead, she pushed herself to the limits. The second the door shut and the carriage was pulling away from the corner she recently stood at, she sat on his lap and began teaching him in the art of mouth-to-mouth.

The man wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck in return and kissed him with all the fiery passion she held from deep within herself. Uno allowed a few grunts and moans to escape her throat and in return, she received several groans from him.

Uno shoved off his top hat and began pushing apart his coat to try and get to the bare skin beneath. He grunted when her fingertips managed to dig beneath his third layer of his suit and groaned out loud when her fingertips brushed across a flattened nipple. Uno smirked and broke the kiss to rain heavy kisses along his sweating neck. His hands stroked up her back and pulled around to the front. He cupped the bottom of her breasts and noticed she wasn't wearing a corset.

Immediately he broke the kiss and gawked at her.

"Heavens Uno—you are wearing nothing beneath this dresss!"

Uno smirked and leaned forward to take his ear lobe between her teeth. She felt him stiffen beneath her grasp. Her hot breath singed his ears when she purred, "What an easier way to please my customers, good sir."

"Uno," Clarion growled out.

His hands wrapped around her waist and shoved her down onto his lap. Uno gasped, releasing his lobe from between her teeth, when she felt his stiffened manhood press against her dress and poke the entrance to her body. She gulped and glanced down at him in slight fear but Clarion registered her expression as seduction instead.

_Are you sure you can go through with this again? _Zero questioned. _This isn't like the past, Uno._

"I-I have to," she breathed out in response.

Clarion smirked and leaned in to kiss her collar bone. "I need to, too." He remarked, thinking she was talking to him. Uno closed her eyes and tilted her head backward, exposing the arch of her neck.

By the time they reached the mansion they were both covered in sweat. Clarion stepped out and extended his hand for his mistress and elegantly, Uno accepted it. He helped her down and into his mansion, then closed the door behind them. She watched as he hung her cloak on the stand near a large swivvle mirror in the hallway entrance then hang his own. He removed his tophat and stuck it on the top of the stand then turned back to see Uno gazing around at his magnificent home.

"Beautiful, is it not?"

"It's… lovely," Uno replied truthfully.

The interior would normally not be to her liking for the color was bright and airy, but it reminded her of the Classical Wing back at the Winner Mansion, back home. The floors were marble, the columns marble, and the stairs were marble. The walls were another stone and the ceiling was ingroved into designs. The furnature was a topic on its own. She turned back to face him and noticed he was smiling at her with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You look beautiful in the dimmed candle light," he muttered softly. "Utterly exquisite."

Uno smiled, feeling herself blush and the blush wasn't faked, either. "Clarion—"

"Richard," he cut her off. "Call me Richard, please, Uno." He held out a hand and Uno took it graciously.

"Richard," she purred. He wrapped an arm around her and delicately raised her chin with his other hand. Passionately, they kissed and Uno felt as if she could forget everything in her past and stay in his arms, forever.

"Come," he said after breaking the kiss, "let me show you to the magical chamber."

She blushed and giggled. Richard led her down another elaborate hallway to her right—left of the entrance to the mansion—and towards another staircase. Up the stairs, the then led her down a richly decorated hall where paintings of arts were posted all over the place and sculptors were shined, radiating the moonlight in return.

"You're quit the artist," she murmured, glancing around. His thumb stroked the back of her hand as he led her towards his chambers.

"Oh yes—it is a hobby of mine. But I am more of a poet." Uno smiled then entered past the dark, mahogany door he opened for her. She stepped out of beauty and into Heaven.

"Oh—wow!" Uno gazed around at his selected furniture. A four-post bed with deep green bedding and canopy top, a large, jade fireplace, and huge floor length windows showing out to the gardens below.

"Beautiful." She stepped up to the windows and gazed out at the horizon of the treelines and the moon. Behind, Richard smiled as the moonlight illuminated the girl's full body.

"You are beautiful," he corrected her. "Standing in the moonlight, radienting the way you are." She turned and fanned her lashes at him. "I think I have fallen in love with an angel."

"Richard…"

"Uno," he quickly closed the gap between the two and grasped her hands in his. "Please—"

She silenced him with a kiss. Upon instinct, Richard wrapped his arms around her body and encased her in a deep, desperate hug. Uno allowed herself to be swept off the ground. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, as if a sudden jerk could break her in two. He tore away and began kissing all around her face and down her neck. Uno closed her eyes and arched her neck back as he feasted on her body.

He crawled up on top of him and lay between her legs. Uno breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his mandhood poke against the thin fabric of her dress. The cotton pantilones she wore were hardly anything and he was _so_ hard that it felt as if he had taken himself out of his pants already. Her arms stroked his back and grabbed his shoulders. His hands stroked her belly and cupped the bottom of her breasts.

"Richard," she breathed out.

"My dear?" He murmured out. His fingers rose to her shoulders and he began slipping the sleeves down off her arms. To his surprise, it came off quit simply.

"Dear Uno," he gasped up at her. She stifled a smile and shrugged her shoulders. "You are truly one of a kind."

"As are you," she returned sweetly, "Baron Richard Von Clarion."

He grinned and lowered himself to kiss her. Uno raised her hands to stroke her fingers through his dark locks. His strong body pressed itself into her thin frame and she bent her knees to stimulate more of the pleasure. Richard gasped and tore away from her neck. He began lowering the dress down her arms then slid his hands to the front of her chest to unlace the rest of her dress. She didn't know he could remove her dress as quickly as he had but she found out when she felt warm lips surround a rosey nipple.

Uno gasped and gripped his shoulders. She never knew sex could feel so sweet. She's always had it rough and wild, always jumping at the springs of the mattresses or being slammed into the walls of her cell. But Richard was sweet to her and taking things slow.

"Richard," she gasped. She felt his fingers kneeding at her other breast and soon the feelings switched. "Uh—God." Uno swallowed hard. "Richard…"

A muffled response was his reply but he didn't dare pull up, knowing he was pleasing her all the way. He pressed himself into her body and Uno worked frantically to remove his jacket. She threw it to the side and began working on his vest. Richard broke free to help her attempts. He shed off his vest and shirt them tossed them to the side of the room. Uno stroked her fingers through the dark curls on his chest while he sat back on his haunches and worked at removing her dress. When she was entirely free of any clothing, save for her pantilones, he devoured in the essence of her beautiful figure.

"My God, dear Uno—you are exquisite."

Uno blushed and turned away to hide her rose tinted cheeks. He lowered himself to her body and kissed her neck, her collar bone, and her breasts, then down her belly. Uno closed her eyes and relaxed upon the soft mattress. He pressed himself against her once more and Uno gasped aloud.

_You don't want this,_ Zero told her.

"Yes," she moaned out softly.

_No you don't_.

"Yes Richard," Uno breathed out. Richard began digging his fingers into the elastic lining of her pantilones. "Richard…"

_This isn't you._

"Richard…"

"Uno," he raised himself up on his arms and neared her. She opened her eyes and saw him above her. Smiling, she leaned up and kissed him passionately. When he broke away, she looked even more radient than ever.

"I can't let you go," he murmured. "You are too much to lose—even after one week. I have never seen a woman like you before."

Uno smiled, clearly flattered. "Richard," she stroked his cheak. "What are you saying?"

"Stay with me?" He frowned. "I shall forever more shower you with gifts, my dear. I will make you glow like a rose in the light of the moon. I will make you happier than a seagull flying with the wind that washes to shore the tides of the sea. I will make you into a dream that no child has ever dreamt before."

She turned away to hide the blush that crept into her cheeks. "Richard—stop, you're flattering me," she said kindly.

"Marry me, Uno." She turned to him just then and saw pain etched in his eyes. "For all thirty-two years of my life have never once found a woman like you before. I can't bear to lose you."

Her eyes twinkled in fear. "Richard," she breathed out.

"I will pay for everything you shall ever need so you will no longer have a need to work the streets, Uno." He swallowed and lowered himself to her body. Uno stared up at the green canopy that hung above her and contemplated her choices. Richard continued to fan her body with kisses as he ground himself into her body.

"I will make you the happiest bride ever to walk the face of the Earth. You will become a Baroness—Baroness Uno Von Clarion," he continued. "You will shine with every jewl mankind has ever known. You will become one of the most famous faces of high society."

"Richard," her voice squeaked as she called his name. Tears began to swell in her eyes and when he saw them, he wiped them away, smiling as he did.

"I see it makes you happy." She had to clench her jaw to keep it from shaking—she was so terrified. "I can handle anything and everything—please."

He lowered himself to her once again and began to shower her with kisses. Uno let her arms fall to the bed as she felt her body growing weaker by the second. She stared up at the green canopy and tried to predict her future. She would marry and become Baroness, anther title of high society that she _still_ didn't want. She would have kids—wait… what would he do when he found out she couldn't have kids?

When he found out about all of her scars—for he _will_ see her in broad daylight, as well.

What will he do when he finds out her birthday is on Halloween?

Uno closed her eyes and covered her face as the tears fell once more. _You have no choice,_ Zero insisted. _You can't accept his proposal. You have an obligation to run—you are the diva for the Opera Populaire, you have to gain money for your Prime Ball gown, and you cannot abbondon your friends. What will he do when he finds out you were a diva for the opera and you have friends who are ballerinas? He will not allow this friendship to remain—and like Theresa, you will lose your friendship to your bestfriend because of a jerk. Sure, Viscountess Christine will be there—if you can even be friends with one who is lower in status than you._

"Richard," she breathed out. He moved her hands away from her face and licked up her tears. Uno swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"I love you," he spoke before she could reply.

Uno felt her heart cramp and she gasped, feeling her chest contract in pain. Richard kissed her and with new found strength, Uno rolled the two of them over. She knew she had to work hard, to stop this before it got worse. He grinned when he noticed she took charge.

"You temptress of the night," he grunted. "Taking charge of the situation in your own ways, I see."

Uno smirked and sniffled. She straddled his hips and striked her fingers through his manly chest hairs. Uno leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a forcing kiss, bruising him in a matter that told him she only knew sex through a rough act. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pressed her down on his hardon. She gasped and slid her hands up his chest until they grasped his shoulders.

"Richard," she gasped aloud.

Richard smirked. "Uno—you villain of the dark that which plays my body and mind as one."

"Richard," she purred suddenly, seductively. She smiled down at him with an iviting challenge laced in her eyes. Lust tinged her voice as she stroked his neck with her fingertips.

Richard shut his eyes and reveled in the passion of the massage she gave him. "You are gorgeous."

"I'd love to marry you," she said. Richard smiled and laid his head back. "But I can't." Uno pressed her fingertips on the pressure point in just enough time to stun his next words. His eyes snapped opened and he gripped her waist but Uno's grip was tighter. She cringed as his fingertips dug into her flesh but she did not let go of his neck.

_You have no choice,_ Zero explained, feeling Uno's heart break. Tears continued to roll down her face as Baron Richard Von Clarion writhed beneath her, struggling for air.

_If you do not stop him now he will not take no for an answer and just like Ricky, he will not allow you to stay friends with Charline._

"I'm sorry," she cried out. His struggles ceased his his mouth relaxed into a common 'aw' form. His arms collapsed back onto the bed. "I really am, Richard." Uno released his neck and choked out on her sobs. "But you would never forgive me if you knew of who I really am." She leant forward and kissed him as she closed his mouth. When she pulled back, she closed his eyes. Uno pried herself away from from the bed and backed up a few steps to stare at what she had just done.

"But I couldn't let the lie go on the way it was heading," she said softly. Uno curled her fingers together and covered her mouth with them. "Please forgive me—but I can't marry you." Uno turned away, unable to stare at him anymore.

"Why Zero?" She cried out. Uno felt her legs collapsed from beneath her weight and she fell to the floor in a heap of tears. She wrapped her arms around her body and rocked hersekf. "Why is this happening to me?"

_Because this is what you get for trying to regain your humanity,_ it shot back. _You _can't_ be human, Uno! You haven't been human in over _ten_ years! You're not yet ready to be human and until you are I will not allow you to hurt yourself. You are a warrior—this was a mission._

"No it wasn't,"she breathed out.

_Think on the objective and say that again._

She cried even harder, knowing Zero was right. "Damn you," she breathed out. "Damn you!"

_Hurry up and get what you came for. You're not made to live a happy life like a _normal_ girl, Uno._

"But I want one," she whispered.

_Look at him and think about this… he acts like Ricky._

Uno gasped and the tears froze in her eyes. "What?"

_He acts like Ricky! He hides the truth—he wasn't looking for cheap sex—he was probably looking for a wife for some high and mighty purpose. Just as Ricky was trying to get into your mind to kill you._

"No…"

_And think of their names… Ricky is a shortened version of Richard, is it not?_

"No!" Uno clenched her eyes.

_Yes… now you see why I told you it couldn't happen. You and Ricky were enemies—Richard would become your enemy and if you married him, you would be stuck with him… forever._

Uno growled and glared up at the body. By now, the veins in his neck would have opened back up. When the authorities opened him up to look for the reason of his death, they will find absolutely nothing. Uno pushed up to her feet and gathered her dress. She felt mildly dirty for playing him like that but Zero was correct.

She came here form one reason and she wasn't about to leave until that reasons was finished.

After readying herself, Uno fled the room quietly and shut the door behind herself. She flew through the halls and randomly opened doors, looking for the study. When she found it, she shut the door behind herself and neared the desk. Behind the desk hung a huge painting of an Equestian Match. If there was one thing Uno knew it was how large paintings behind desks usually held safes.

She was greeted by a safe when she opened the painting up like a door.

The safe was a typical dial lock. It was simple to pick. Uno placed her ear on the door and listened closely for the three _clicks_ to indicate the unlocking. When it opened, she stole inside and found what she was in search of.

The entire stash of the man's allowance.

She grabbed a bag from inside the safe and stuffed it up with all of the money she could gather. She had grabbed well over a hundred thousand francs but it wouldn't hurt to have more than what's required. Never know when she may need even more and if she didn't have it then, she highly doubted she would find anybody from her past to replay a part in her future—or vice versa.

Either way, she highly doubted she would have this opportunity again.

She closed the safe when she was finished and fled the room silently. On her way down the large staircase she first noticed upon entering the room, the butler rounded the corner and spotted her. Uno immediately dropped the satchel and ran to him.

"Mademoiselle?"

"Forgive me," she murmured. She slid to a halt and wrapped her fingers around his neck, soon sending him into eternal rest just like his master. The butler began descending in his fall and Uno worked quickly to silently lower him to the floor. After that was completed, she picked up the satchel once more and fled outside, grabbing her reticule and cloak on the way. A brown horse was easy enough to steal out of the stables and after saddeling up, she leapt him out of the stables and rode into town, making sure she kept herself covered by her back cloak.

Just before she neard the opera house she slid down off his back and slapped the steed's rare to keep him going at high pace. Uno watched the horse vanish into the darkness before turning and fleeing inside. The clocks inside the grand entrance read one on the morning.

She had to hurry up to bed.

She had to get enough sleep to wake before everyone else did.

She had to hide the money while she stored it and delivered it to Madam Wilma.

**

* * *

A repeat from earlier:  
And incase you are lost regarding the high society stats:  
**_--- viscount, count/baron/duke/lord, emperor/king/kaiser/tsar  
------- kaiser is the ruler of germany  
------- tsar is the ruler of russia  
_**I hope you can understand that.  
Viscount is the lowest, then count and baron and duke and lord are next in line (all of those are the same--that is why it is slashed), then emperor and kind and kaiser and tsar are the highest (again, they are all the same, which is why it is slashed between each term). Each term between slashes are different places they are called. And incase you are lost regarding the high society stats:**

**As you all could see... he was just like Ricky... which if you don't know, you will learn probably within the next 2-3 chapters! (winks) But to those who DO know of Ricky will notice how and WHY she fell head-over-heels for him so suddenly. Just like Ricky, he had a way to get into her heart within a split second (or is it just like Richard, Ricky had the way... man, this time change messes even me up!) BUT, it was only Ricky who knew how to get Uno flattered... Richard knew how too (winks too all the old Uno fans out there).**

**-- -- -- I found out we have a new hurricane alert, called Wilma... now THIS is freaky! This is the 21st hurrican/tropical storm of 2005's Hurricane season and it's called Wilma... and this is the 21st chapter of DC3 and the seamstress is named Madam Wilma. (shivers) Freaky, eh?**

**Okay... so... what y'all think? (grins) Please tell me!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T REPORT ME FOR THIS CHAPTER! YOU HAVE TO BE MATURE ABOUT THIS UPDATE, _PLEASE!_**


	22. The Revival of Ricky

**I had this chapter finished for a while but all my reviewers have disappeared... (sobs) WHERE DID THEY ALL GO! The Duo's Child series (also soon to be called the Gundam Zero series) has been known for people's love for Uno!**

**I feel like shit... I went to the Renaissance Festival for practically all day today and now I'm entirely groggy... uunnn...**

**This chapter is 40 pages long... 40 PAGES! So take your time. Even if you recall reading these parts from DC1 or 2, I advise you to REREAD THEM! They have changed some.

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-Two - **

Uno scurried towards the bed after finally getting dressed in her night gown. She doubled checked her stash of stolen money beneath the furthest corner of her bed and found it has not yet moved. Sighing in satisfaction, she crawled into bed and got comfortable. It was going to be a long three weeks and she was going to work hard at practicing her parts. If her role was to be diva and her dress was to make her appear royally, she knew she had a lot to prepare for.

Her brows knitted together and she stared up at the molding ceiling. She had not expected to come across the man Ricky would have later beein reincarnated off of. And as a matter of fact, Ricky wasn't born through natural birth!

He was a test tube child.

_Perhaps it was from Heero—_through_ Heero_, Uno contemplated. _I know it couldn't have been through Sarah because then I would have some similar traits besides the perfection. Heero was trained—he's genuine inside._

She closed her eyes and sighed.

_Yes,_ she decided, _Ricky's reincarnation was through Heero's gene. It's the only way._

She breathed deeply one final time before allowing herself to fully relax. When she was able to think no more and fall into the oblivion of sleep, she began to dream.

But the dreams were not as pleasant as she would have liked.

---

"Damn it, Duo!" Uno screamed out at the tops of her lungs as she sped her stolen bike down the street, over the medium, and dangerously into the opposite lane. She dodged the opposing vehicles as they sped past her, blowing their horns and cursing at her daring self.

"Why! _Why!_"

Stealing the bike had been the easiest thing to do. She casually stepped out into the busy road close by to the suburban town, held up her arm for the biker who was going to speed by her, and clothes-lined him. The poor bastard had died on impact for crashing his neck into her arm and she felt to relieve his dead body of his mode of transportation.

What? Not like he would need it anymore.

"Why did you do this to me?" Tears blurred her vision as she swept in and out of the lanes and dodged the dangerous, oncoming traffic. "Why did you put me through this hell?"

Screams of aggressive drivers shouting at her were blurred past her mind and her tears that hazed out her vision. Duo had sent her flying over the top when he told her the truth, the truth he—and most likely everyone else—has kept hidden from her, her _whole_ life. And Heero defended him as if Duo were in the right.

What? Was she supposed to suddenly scream in glee and wrap her arms around Duo's neck, around her _true_ father's neck? Was she supposed to be all happy-happy and amazingly proud after finding out her family had all lied to her? And how many others have lied to her? Zechs? Relena? _Hildie_?

It didn't matter. They were all dead and she had to move on.

"Just move on," she chanted to herself as she returned to the original lane for which to drive upon and sped off at a faster pace. "Just move on. Fight this war and finish it. End the fate for which destiny had planned out for us all. Take with it to Hell the shit that my past has been created from and leave nobody from the past alive."

Uno has been contemplating this for a very long time, contemplating on whether or not she will be able to survive once the war was over. But she didn't care anymore. One thing was for certain: not a soul of those who know the past must live. Too much has been lost because of those views, because people have misread the beliefs led by the man who had created the mansion she was raised within.

She turned off the heavy road and down the feeder road to the freeway, ready to turn into the parking lot of the building she had come to dread all too much. When she neared it, she gazed up at the windows before her, remembering the fateful mission she and Mandy had come to complete, remembering when they have been captured.

Remembering Ricky.

No. Ricky had to be dead now; Justin was angry and he was set on killing Ricky. But that wasn't Ricky; Ricky was kind and caring towards her. No. That man was an imposter of Ricky, a clone, a fake. He wasn't the _real_ Ricky; he wasn't _her_ Ricky.

Uno slipped off the bike, withdrew her stolen gun from Heero's room that she had taken in the middle of the night, and prepared herself for her mission objective. It was easy to steal Heero's gun; the darkness shielded her so well and her stealth skills were so perfect that nobody had ever known she was even there.

At least, not until he entered his room after she left and found the gun on the top shelf of his bookcase was missing.

She tore into the building and darted her gaze around. She wasn't about to get caught again—by guards _or_ that horrible clone of her boyfriend.

"Alright," she murmured silently as she slowly stepped down the hall, each footstep hitting the floor lightly. "Now to find the department's main control room for the science division."

She sighed suddenly, as if knowing what route to take. When she realized it she stood up and groaned then turned towards her right where an elevator stood.

"Look's like I'm heading back upstairs."

Uno shot out of the elevator, her pistol aimed and ready, and frowned. No body was around. It was very unusual and she was sure there would be guards. But all she found were empty hallways and cold walls.

She strode down the hall with her guard remaining on high alert, found the door she was looking for, and stepped inside. Once she entered she saw the monitors and keyboards, along with the large amounts of huge machinery and computers, skittered all across the floors, lined up all along the walls, and a lonely man standing in the middle of it all, his back turned to her, his arms locked together behind his back.

"Uno," he said softly. Uno frowned and straightened her back; how did this man know her? When he turned around to face her she felt all the blood in her body run thin.

"Daniel," she murmured. "Daniel Tanners."

Daniel nodded then with a deep sigh, glanced at the ground and stepped to the side so he could head over towards one of the walls of the room where a chalkboard was standing.

"Yes Uno, it's me; Ricky's father."

"Why?" She lowered the gun, awkwardly feeling at ease. "Why?" She repeated herself; however, this time much softer.

Daniel frowned and glanced up at her. "I must say I'm quite amazed with you, Uno. Three times you have managed to turn my son against his task and _two_ of those times he has died in place of you."

Uno frowned. "Two?"

"Just last week when he threw you out of the window," he explained before returning to the floor and continuing his slow steps of pacing. "Your comrade dueled against him and won. I had a feeling you would return to this building to fight and so I didn't have the team return him to the pods. No; rather, I simply let him die."

"You let your own son die?" Uno snarled. "What kind of a father are you to him?"

Daniel looked up at her, his brows knitted together with worry. "He hasn't told you anything, has he?"

Uno growled. "Anything as of what? He's told me he was created and bred for my destruction by your company's pathetic beliefs."

Daniel chewed the inside of his cheek before removing the worried expression from his face and displaying a wide grin. "For an overachiever, you sure don't pick up that quickly."

"What are you getting at?" She growled. "Insults don't do shit to me—just thought I should tell you."

"Ricky's not my son," Daniel spat. Uno frowned and cocked her head to the side.

"What?"

Daniel looked back down and began strolling towards the opposite side of the room. "Several years ago, really it was right after news of your existence being raised by our adversaries, the ex Rebels of Space, got out, we decided to create our own version of you… so we can eliminate you when the time came."

"What?" Uno felt her blood running colder than ice, if it were even possible. "What are you saying?"

"Heero Yuy once had a mission to do at one of our first bases, back on a colony in cluster L5. We know he let himself get captured—as that same evening an explosion had hit—and so while he was in our capture, while he was confined to the safety of our cells, we experimented on him."

"You…" Uno swallowed hard. "You had this planned from the beginning?"

Daniel carried right on as if he hadn't heard her. "We needed to extract a sample of his sperm and so we did. Later, but not much after, we were on a colony in cluster L1 and we captured one of the brightest female citizens we have ever seen; we found her because she had won a contest we put out—a contest of the vast experience of knowledge. We tracked her down, captured her, removed a few of her eggs from her body, then returned her; she never knew a thing." Daniel paused and took a deep breath. "Her name was Sarah Cleaver and though she was bright—she was frightened upon waking up in her hotel room when her friends insisted she had not returned to the room the night before and somehow appeared there. They left immediately and returned home."

"Sarah Cleaver?" Uno muttered. Daniel turned to her, his brows furrowed. "That's my mother!"

Daniel stood in astonishment. "You're lying," he muttered. Uno shook her head. "You mean to tell me that Ricky—the Synodd creation of your copy-alike—is actually your half brother?"

Uno shut her eyes then turned away while groaning. "God—I feel sick now."

Daniel laughed. "I can't believe this!" Uno opened her eyes and glared him. "You and Ricky really _are_ alike in so many ways! I'm amazed I never saw it before."

"You're sick," she spat out. "Plain ol' sick. We made out several times."

Daniel shrugged. "Nothing different than normal siblings fucking around, eh?"

Uno shut her eyes and shivered softly. "And to think I was tempted to get laid by him."

Daniel smirked. "Too bad you didn't. It would have probably given him an easier chance to kill you."

"I can't believe you had this whole thing planned out from the beginning," she growled upon opening her eyes and turning to him fully. She glared him. "You had this planned out from the start!"

Daniel shrugged. "Yes, I did. And I admit, you and him are _so_ much alike, though he's more of a perfectionist than a sarcastic mouth—even though he _did_ get an attitude with our soldiers often."

She took deep breaths to steady her racing heart. "I was born from Duo as he Heero; I have the sarcasm and humor and the ability to always hide behind a smile and he doesn't."

"No… he just has brains, bronze, and ability compared to your childish behavior," Daniel spat back. Uno narrowed her eyes.

"Watch yourself, Daniel." And with that she raised her gun and aimed it at him. "I came here to kill you—to put an end to all of this."

Daniel spread out his arms and choked out a laugh. "And you think that'll stop me? You think that'll stop Synodd? You think killing me would bring Theresa back?"

"No," she growled, "but it's a start that I'm willing to take. Everything dealing with the past must be put to rest for once and for all."

And without another word, she pulled the trigger and blood seeped out of his forehead. Uno took a deep breath and lowered the gun, her gaze fixated on the body that collapsed before her.

Why hadn't he put up a fight?

She lowered her eyes to the floor and fought the urge to cry. Why did Daniel let her kill him without a fight? Why did he not mind? Why did he not stop her?

Maybe he was depressed at the loss of his two sons, at the loss of his _real_ son and the man he created and raised as his son. Maybe because he knew that, if she were able to compete and win _constantly_ against Ricky all the way through her childhood up until when Justin finished the job for her, Daniel knew she would actually have the ability to put this war to a stop.

But didn't he want it?

She turned to face the deceased body one final time before exiting the room.

---

Her eyes snapped opened and she bolted into an upright position. Gasping for air, she tried to cool herself off. Her whole body was drenched with sweat, her hair plastered to her face and neck, and she was numb all over. Uno glanced around the room and noticed that everyone was still asleep. The darkness had told her it was still considered night—or early morning. She stared down at her lap, to the sheets that twisted around her legs.

Apparently Baron Richard Von Clarion had reminded her _more_ of Ricky than she wanted.

Uno closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. Perhaps if she tried to rest _peacefully_, without thinking about the murder, she would be able to get just enough rest to complete the day ahead of her. She swallowed back the fear that lodged itself into her throat, laid back down, and attempted to return to the oblivion where she only knew of nightmares.

And as each night has greeted her for the past ten years, the nightmares only got worse.

---

_Wake up Uno… you've been captured by Ricky._

Uno groaned and slowly opened her eyes.

_Wake up you stupid _shit_! Ricky is alive and he shot you with a tranquilizer gun! He shot you and he captured you!_

The scenery her eyes took in was blurry and she winced against the blinding light coming from her right. She frowned and took in her surroundings. It was some sort of room, a huge mirror set in front of her with a heavy metallic door besides it and huge floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall to her far right. Coming from the windows were the blinding lights that showed the daylight and bright blue sky.

She frowned and pushed herself up to a sitting position. Since she didn't have her weapons she didn't have to worry about them digging into her aching limbs; the soldiers most likely rid her of her guns and knives. The Marine pants Uno wore still continued to sag off her hips and her tanktop felt grimy against her skin.

_Probably dirty with how often I wear it._

Her legs nearly buckled beneath her body's weight but she managed to hold to herself and drag herself towards the windows. She knew she should be trying the door but something told her it would be locked anyways.

_Holy shit._

The window over looked about a _hundred_ miles of Earth! She swallowed hard and glanced down to where tiny dots, also known as people, moved around on the floor of what could easily be taken as a child's match-box car city. She was in some sort of huge building that towered over _every_ thing else!

The door opened and Uno spun around but froze when she noticed the man who stepped into the room with her. It was no doubt seeing Hell return a zombie to chase after her. From his walk to his build and finally to his scraggily brown hair and cobalt blue eyes, he shut the door and regarded her for a brief moment.

"H-how… can you still be alive?" She stammered out. "Y-you shot yourself in the head."

"Oh… this?" Ricky pointed at the scar on his left temple then over to his right and smirked. "Yeah—did I forget to tell you that my father owned the science division of Synodd?"

"Ricky—no," she murmured. "Tell me this isn't true."

"Oh it's true," he grinned and began strutting towards her. "It's all true and it's all real, too."

Uno shook her head, still unable to comprehend what she was seeing. "No. You're dead. You shot yourself in that alleyway because you couldn't shoot me."

Ricky paused and sighed as he glanced out the window. "Yeah—eleven years of training and it went to waste that quickly, no?" He smirked and returned to stare at her. "I admit, I was weak. I thought I could kill you and I couldn't. I was given the assignment twice and both times I found it was impossible to shoot you."

"You loved me," she spat out. "That's why you couldn't kill me."

"Loved you?" Ricky choked out in mock humor. "I _loved_ you? Uno, do you know what you caused?"

She shook her head, unable to take in what he was saying. "No—no it's not true. I read it in your eyes."

"Do you have _any_ idea of what you caused?" He repeated himself. "Because you were born you made us have a harder time getting done what we needed to complete. Now yes, I admit, you gave us the Blassimeer papers and we needed that, seeing as it was a vital process that we needed to achieve our life goals."

Uno stared at him, unable to take in what she was seeing.

Ricky was alive!

And he was against her!

"But because of you, Theresa had to die."

"What!" She snapped. "You killed her! I didn't do anything!"

"You were the one I was aiming for!" He snarled and reached out for her. Uno was dumbfounded and slapped her across the face but when she thought she would gain her balance quickly she found it was nearly impossible as he grabbed her braid and yanked her closer towards him. "You were the one who had to state that we were your only friends! Damn it, Uno! If you would have kept your mouth shut I should have ended it when it was supposed to end!"

"Ricky," she coughed out. "Stop this."

"My father told me that if I had killed you he would have let me take Theresa to wherever I desired for as long as I wanted and kept her for myself, to _fuck_ her for as long as I desired!"

"Ricky! Stop this!" She screamed out. Ricky hurled her across the room and after slamming into the wall in a rough way Uno collapsed onto the floor, her back and neck burning badly.

"If you hadn't had done that then I wouldn't have had to shoot myself!" Uno lifted her head to see him stalking towards her. "I botched two assignments because of you and I had to commit suicide, seeing as I didn't take you out the second time and Synodd was getting quite peeved with you being in the way!"

"Ricky," she coughed, "please—stop this!"

"Silence!" Ricky leaped onto one foot and slammed the toe of his boot of his other foot into her ribs, instantly breaking at least two upon impact. Uno cringed and screamed as the pain tore through her body at an unbearable rate.

"You sentenced me to a life of Hell and now you've taken up on this war as if it's your only survival!" He roared down at her. "You act as if you _own_ this war and you _don't_! I do! This is my life! This company is what I was born for and you're trying to take it away from me! You selfish, self-centered _bitch_!"

He kicked her again and Uno cried out. "Ricky—please! Stop!"

"No!" He kicked her again and she felt her jaw coming close to being broken upon the second impact.

Ricky reached down and wrapped her braid around his fist and pulled her to her feet. "Stand up you little bitch," he seethed out. "Stand up and meet your fate. You've caused us a lot of men and I can't stand to see someone besides myself taking them out so easily. You always _were_ a show off, you know that?"

Uno winced as the pain from her hair soared through her nerves. Ricky slammed her up against the wall and pinned her against it as he pressed his body into hers. He gripped her hair roughly and yanked backwards, forcing her face to stare up at his. Uno's eyes were filled with tears and they begun falling the second she noticed the dead-set look in his eyes. Her lips parted but no words formed and no voice came.

Ricky slammed his lips down on hers in a bruising fashion and kissed her. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue diving into her mouth and searching for hers in return. Each time it made contact with her tongue it would circle around it.

After a minute Ricky tore himself away from her lips and grinned. Uno was in a daze suddenly, that kiss sending her over the top and into blackness.

"What's the matter?" He murmured softly and lowered his face to the crevice of her neck and shoulder. "Don't you miss me?"

Uno blinked back a few of the tears but they still managed to fall. "Ricky," she breathed out. "Ricky… what's happened to you?"

"Aren't you happy to see me?" He asked her softly, kissing her neck and grazing it with his teeth. "Aren't you happy your boyfriend's still alive?"

She choked on her own tears and squeaked when she tried to say his name again. "Ricky… this isn't you."

"What do you mean?" He nipped at her ear and dragged his tongue across her neck towards her chin, forcing her head backwards and her lips to part for air. "This is every… _inch_, me." He pressed his lower half against her and let her feel the hard desire he held for her deep down below.

"No," She breathed out, "it isn't."

"Yes it is, Uno." Ricky looked into her eyes without his hating glare and smiled. Uno swallowed back the lodge that got stuck in her throat when she saw the face of the man she fell in love with several years ago.

The same man that was always against her without her knowing.

The same man that had turned on her and tried to kill her twice and took his life and her best friends because he couldn't take hers.

The same man that had left the imprint of his dead face in her eyes.

He was now staring at her, alive and well.

"No," she whispered. "It isn't true. You're dead."

Ricky turned on her just then and hurled her across the room once more. "I _am_ alive!" He snarled out. "And because of Synodd keeping me alive I have the second chance I needed the first time to kill you!"

Ricky slammed a curled fist into her stomach. Uno doubled over and fell to the ground from the impact upon her stomach. She coughed and gasped for air but still found it rather hard to breathe.

"Ricky," she gasped. "Why?"

"Because you weren't supposed to be fucking born, that's why! If you were never born then Synodd wouldn't have a threat keeping it from becoming a big hit!"

"What does it matter if I was born?" She screamed out at him. Ricky kicked her in the face and Uno could have sworn she felt a tooth crack as her jaw locked up and slammed closed forcefully. She whimpered and Ricky sighed.

"I was adopted," she whimpered. Ricky froze. "Duo took me in off the streets when I was five. He only wanted to raise me to be just like him in case of another war. I only joined up because they died and they needed a fighter who had the training."

"You were adopted?" He stammered. She looked up at him and felt more tears falling. "Did Theresa know this?"

"No," she cried out. "We told no body."

"Why?" He breathed out. "Why, Uno? Why did you want to be like him?"

"Because… because I had no family and I wanted to make him proud," she lowered her head and sobbed softly.

"And did you?" He asked, slowly loosing his temper again. "Did you?" He now screamed out and forced her to her feet once again by use of her braid.

"_Did you!_"

"Ricky!" Uno cried out. "Stop it!"

"_No!_ I will _not_ stop this!" He screamed. He flung her to the side and slammed her face into the metal wall then hurled her backwards and let her body bounce painfully off the wall and collapse back onto the floor.

"I will _not_ stop this! You have caused us a great deal and they are _tired_ of your attitude! I'm tired of it! I was bred to defeat you and to _kill_ you but you fucking got in side of me so well that I _couldn't_!" He stalked up to her and paused as he watched her struggle to stand up and compose herself. "You fucking bitch! You're so fucking selfish and you don't think about anyone except for yourself! Sure, you gave me those papers but that was it! You should have kept your nose out of this war! I would have come back for you eventually—but no, you _had_ to join the fight, didn't you!"

He slammed another fist into her ribcage, splintering several other ribs with it. When she collapsed he took the moment to remove a combat knife out of his back pocket and unsheathe it. He pulled her to her feet and sliced out at her face, instantly cutting her cheek.

"You stupid girl," Ricky muttered softly. "If you were half as smart as you were when we were children you would have stayed out of this fight. It doesn't consist of you _or_ me, but since you're in it, _I'm_ in it!"

"Ricky," she pleaded, "please stop this. Please." Blood poured out of the wound he formed on her cheek.

"No," he murmured in reply. "No—you deserve it all, Uno. But hey," he shrugged suddenly, "Look at it this way, if you agree to stay away I'll let you go—of course to one of our prison cells until the wars over—and when it is, I'll keep you for myself."

She winced as he yanked back on her braid and forced her to stare up at him. Ricky pinned himself back against her body and pinned her against the wall then lowered his mouth to hers but suspended above her lips by an inch.

"Then no matter how much you fight me, I'm going to have the science department erase your mind of all that fucking past you love so much and keep you for myself." He shrugged now, as if a thought occurred to him, and then smirked. "Yes, I'm sure they would appreciate having _two_ assassins, two of which are excellent sharp shooters and whatnot, but… I don't think they'd want your memories fogging up your assignments."

"Ricky," she cried, "stop this!"

"No!" He stabbed her then, jabbing the knife all the way up to the handle, into her stomach. Uno screamed and felt the blood rising up to her lips.

"Ricky," she breathed out. She raised her hand to still his and wrapped her fingers around his wrist but her strength wouldn't come for anything else.

"My God, Uno," Ricky murmured now. He withdrew the blade and ignored the grunt that came with it, and then flung the knife to the side of the room. "My God you look fucking _hot_ when you're in pain."

She looked up at him as tears fell. "Ricky," she mouthed. "Why are you doing this?"

"God," he practically groaned out. "Ah God you're fucking hot."

He slammed his lips down on hers and sent a hand to clutch a breast forcefully, gripping the mound he found. She whimpered against his lips and tried to fight him but her strength was quickly escaping her. She didn't even know how long she had left to live until her breath would entirely vanish from her lungs and she would die.

And with what Ricky was doing to her it wouldn't be but five minutes.

"God," he murmured against her ear as his hand lowered from her breast down to the waistband of her pants. "God I need to fuck you badly. I think it'll be good for us—help us settle our arguments. I've heard couples who always fight best solve their problems in bed."

"You're going to rape me," she breathed out in shock.

"And you're going to love every minute of it," he smirked.

Just then the mirror Uno recently looked at shattered into a million shards and sprayed out into the room within thousand different angels. Ricky cringed and ducked his head as the pieces slapped at his face and neck and pricked his skin. Uno's knees buckled from beneath her and sent her crashing to the ground but with her braid still wrapped securely around Ricky's fist her head was soon jerked backwards, pain soaring through her back in an unusual head-throbbing fashion.

Ricky's eyes narrowed and he turned to see a semi-automatic rifle aiming right at him and being held by another man that held similar appearances to himself.

"What the hell?" Ricky murmured and frowned.

The man tore his gaze away from the scope of his rifle and frowned when he took a glimpse of his new opponent. "What the hell?" He murmured.

Uno swallowed hard upon seeing her comrade entering the fight. "Justin," she cried. Justin glanced down at her before returning to Ricky and putting Ricky back in the aim of his scope.

"Ricky," Justin grumbled and kept the target set on Ricky as he raised his legs and stepped over the mirror walls and into the room. The glass shards crackled beneath his military boots and popped when he pressed his full weight down upon it.

"So nice to see you alive."

Ricky glanced down at Uno and snarled. "Cheating on me, I see? I'm gone not even a full three years and already you're fucking with another guy?"

"Let her go," Justin demanded coolly. "I'm warning you before I open fire."

Ricky laughed loudly. "What a whore you are, Uno! A little slut!" He looked at Justin and smirked. "So this tramp decided to evacuate her past and make way for the future, eh? How slutty!"

Justin narrowed his eyes. "Let her go," he growled and adjusted the trigger of his rifle. "I won't tell you to do that again."

"Justin," Uno sobbed. One look at her had Justin crying out for her, his heart screaming at the fragile creature who only _acts_ like a machine.

"Let. Her. Go."

"Fine," Ricky shrugged.

Then, without any thought, he flung his arm and hurled her towards the windows at a full blown out force. Uno screamed and reached out for Justin but the glass shards of the window breaking scratched and tore at her arms, ripping the skin up and slicing into her body badly. She fell through the window and reached out for something to grab hold of but soon found herself flung further out into the open than just the side of the building.

"Uno!" Justin screamed. Ricky flung himself into his opponent and began to carry on the fight with his girlfriend's new lover.

She stared at the ground and saw it coming fast but at the same time she didn't see the ground before her. Her body was flying out into the air and soon the bayou drainage was coming up. Right when she felt the cool air of the water spray up on her face she felt the blackness swarming around her with its icy fingers and she succumbed into the shadowy depths of Hell once more.

---

Tears were stinging in her eyes but Uno didn't let them fall. She stared up at the moldy ceiling and breathed out of her mouth silently, wishing she could rip each memory out of her head. She wished she could just start over in this new world and become a _normal_ human being. She wished she could push everything away and pretend she had always lived in this era.

But she knew she was kidding herself.

Rembering when Daniel had told her about his 'son' was hard and it had triggered the memory of when Ricky returned to the war. She had thought he died in that alley when they were younger but she found later she was wrong. He died, of course; but he came back as the cold-hearted assassin she knew he was designed to be.

_They probably removed the love from his mind,_ she totaled up. _If they were creating half man or animal and half machine characters why couldn't they erase a person's emotions?_

She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. Uno would give herself one more attempt at falling asleep and gaining a nightmare that wouldn't leave her feeling scared. If she could dream a pleasant thought rather than a horror she would probably feel more human.

But she was turned into a machine.

And machines weren't supposed to feel.

The deepest region of her brain unlocked new terrors as she fell asleep once again. This time, as she slept, it was the Ricky she loved that visited.

---

They walked together out of the theater, hand-in-hand, and started to walk down the sidewalk towards the parking lot of the street; each street had a parking lot—this was the popular section of town considering each street was littered with shopping stores and such.

"Uno… I need to talk to you." His tone got soft and he began breathing a bit heavy. Uno looked up at him, the laughter dead in her eyes from their previous joking mood.

"Hm?" She smiled. He looked down at her smile and his heart began beating even faster. He had to do this eventually and now was the best time.

"I…" He paused, looking around and noticing the people. He sighed and took her hand as he began walking into the back of an alley.

"There's too many people around," he rushed out.

Uno stared at him innocently, her heart pounding massively inside her chest. He needed to talk to her about something really important and the only thing she could think of was their relationship. She didn't want to break up with him; she also knew that he didn't want to either. The only other assumption she could come up with was his proposal of wanting to be steady.

Or marriage.

But Uno was only fourteen and Ricky was seventeen; _that_ was too early.

"Ricky?" Uno tilted her head some and frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

Ricky wasn't looking at her; instead, he was looking off and to the side. "Uno… I…"

He sighed. He _had_ to do this!

"Ricky?" She smiled caringly. "Whatever it is, tell me."

Ricky shut his eyes and pulled something out from behind him. He lifted it up and Uno froze looking at it. He stood five feet away from her, his arm up in the air…

…and a gun in his hands aiming at her face.

"Ricky?" She mumbled his name, confusion sweeping across her eyes.

"It wasn't supposed to go this far. It should have been done years ago, but I could never go through with it." His voice was serious and back to the frightening tone she heard him use when he spoke to his collegues outside the rundown strip mall. Her face wiped clean of all emotion and she stood there as serious as he was.

"You killed Theresa," she said seriously as she stared into his eyes. "Didn't you?"

"I wasn't supposed to but damn it," Ricky growled. "You had to fucking say those things! Didn't you?" His breath was shaky. "It was only supposed to be you, a quick pull and I was out of there in no time."

"Ricky…" Uno mumbled again.

"Synodd has paid me a hefty price to take you down myself. My father assigned me when I was eight-years-old. He assigned me into your school so I could stalk you and learn about you and assassinate you when I gained enough information. When they found out about you being the five ex Rebels of Space's child, the pace sped up and I was forced to kill you sooner than planned." Ricky paused, trying not to let Uno's stare affect him. "For years, my father has trained me in ways you wouldn't understand. You always thought he abused me but he never had; the cuts, the bruises, the beatings—they were all from the Synodd Training Department. I was assigned the job from the very beginning to eliminate you; they trained me professionally. They trained me in the art of all you see me as today. Those obstacle courses you told me about that Heero had you do… I've completed those different sets when I was eleven."

"But… Ricky…" Uno mumbled out.

"I have been working for Synodd for a little over eleven years now, since they were just beginning and nothing but a whisper in their minds. Well, now it's a full process of attraction. Synodd's got several branches set out and determined to pull through and you're the only one in the way." Ricky growled.

"What about my family? And Zechs?" Uno took a deep breath.

"They are all too old to fight and even then, with the ideas Synodd has—they can't compete against it. The wars we want to achieve are far greater in technology than they had almost twenty years ago." Ricky paused again to take another deep breath but he was still shaking badly. "As I said, I've worked for them for over eleven years now. The paychecks I get are enough to probably pay off a quarter of your mansion. With one check I was able to afford that restaurant. My father had taken my past two checks before that and held it for interest for my car. He told me after Johnson's funeral that I have to be stronger than I am or else I won't get things done and I won't get paid again." His voice lowered to an angry growl. "He said he wasn't happy to see you still standing."

"Ricky…" Uno mumbled his name once again.

"So this is it. I'm not going to miss now, even if I have to shoot you in point blank range." Ricky narrow his eyes, determined to pull off the shot. Uno just stood there, amazingly not afraid, staring dead into his eyes.

"Ricky…" She mumbled his name once more. "Ricky, if you loved me… you wouldn't do this."

The gun started to quiver some and Ricky kept his determined look on her face. His lips were pressed firmly together into a thin line. He looked dead into her eyes.

All he had to do was pull the trigger.

All had had to do was put a clear shot into her head.

All he had to do was kill her.

But suddenly, the gun fell back to his side and he was breathing heavily, each breath jagged and harsh, filled with tremors. She didn't blink; she didn't question. She just stood there as she had been, staring back into his eyes.

He lifted the gun back up and brought it to his head.

"God damn it, Uno." Ricky choked out. Several tears cascaded from his eyes and they didn't stop falling.

One minute, Uno was standing in front of her beloved boyfriend with her undying love for him, then the next she was staring into the eyes of a blood covered wound, gaping into the side of his head. Ricky had shot himself for his failing attempts and the effect of it all carried through to their surroundings. His blood splattered across the brick walls of the alley and on the concrete below. The bullet flew right through his skull and came out the other side; the wall to her right is what stopped it. What once would have been called the human brain from within a skeleton's skull spilled out of the giant hole on both sides of his head. His body fell backwards into the bloody puddle that formed around his feet. The gun fell out of his hands and dropped to the ground below.

Uno had not moved within a single second while she watched him from the moment he cried her name to the second he pulled the trigger and fell dead before her very eyes.

"Uno!" Duo's voice rang out in the air around her like a beacon in a shadowy cave.

He rounded the corner in a skittering slide and ran towards Uno, skidding to a halt when he saw all the blood around them. He stepped up softly to the scene and slowly turned to look at Uno. Her face was stained with tears and they didn't stop coming. She stood firm and continued staring down at his body, at his bloody face, at his eyes.

Heero was the next one to spin around the corner and he, too, froze the moment he saw all the blood. If he was even several feet away from the alley he would have been able to _smell_ the stench of blood, but he wasn't expecting it to be so suddenly. He looked at Uno and noticed her drenched face. He looked back down at the dead body of Ricky and slowly stepped up to it. He knelt down besides it and looked back up to Uno. Pain struck his own heart. He had actually _liked_ having Ricky around; it was like he had a fan club of his own.

"Uno?" Duo's soft and gentle voice tried to reach her but it was no use. His hands gently pressed on her shoulders and he covered her sight of Ricky's dead eyes, but she wasn't really even looking at all; she was dazing out now that the imprint of his eyes were set firmly in her memory forever.

"He loved me." Uno said softly, almost as a mumble. "He loved me and he had to kill himself because of it, because he couldn't kill me."

"Uno…sweetie…" Duo wrapped his arms around Uno's but she still stood firmly in place, her eyes draining of an endless amount of water. Heero continued kneeling besides the body, watching Uno's silent crying and slowly lowered his head to the body.

All this had happened because Ricky had loved Uno too much to go through with it… the same thing that had saved her in place of Theresa.

---

Uno gasped and tore herself away from her bed. The tears that stung her eyes from earlier literally poured down her face. The sweat that stained her body had doubled and drenched her night gown. Her previously weak limbs had suddenly become pusling with anger. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared down at the damp mattress she only recently slept upon. Images of Ricky as he died were still plastered to her mind's eye, like laughter that had glued itself to her memories.

"Fuckin Hell," Uno breathed out. She turned away from the bed to see the other girls fast asleep and sensed that only a measily hour had gone by since her last nightmare. "Why the fuck can't I sleep?" She turned and glanced down at Charline. "What the fuck is fucking wrong with me?"

Charline mumbled something incoherent then rolled over onto her side. Uno turned and glanced at the opening in the whole before turning and glancing over at Priscella. She was the only girl who seemed to have trouble sleeping. The only one who dreamted of demons lurking in the shadows. It was as if she stole the nightmares from everyone else so they could have a pleasant sleep.

She smirked. _It's like I'm a fuckin' dreamcatcher._

Uno sighed and turned around to make her bed. She gathered a deep velvet blue dress then after dressing and storing away her night gown, grabbed her black cloak and left the room. It was still _way_ too late—or early—to prepare for the day ahead of herself so instead of trying to continue getting sleep, Uno decided to retreat to a place of seclusion.

-

Erik grumbled and slammed his pen down on the parchment he scribbled his music upon. This was the fourth time he was struggling to compose his piece and the fourth time he was screwing up. He ran his hands through his hair and turned to glance at the ticking grandfather clock.

Three in the morning.

Erik groaned and lowered his head. He heaved a loud growl before glancing over to one of his mirrors that stood on the piano head. He hated having a mirror placed there but so long as he remembered his face—as to not lose himself in his music—he could keep his tempo at rough paces and keep his tradition of aggressive measurements.

_Relax Erik—you just need a break._

He pushed off the bench and headed towards his parked gondola. A break from his lair might save him the hassal of ruining a good idea. He donned his black cloak then stepped into his boat. After pushing it off the shoreline, he rowed himself towards the other side.

By the time he reached the rooftop he was agitated no more but still desired upon the solace of the vast black sky littered with sparkling stars. The air was chilly, preparing for a cold winter. The streets were as silent as a doornail and not a soul was found lurkin the shadows below. Apparently even the whores had taken to warm shelters.

Probably the Moulin Rouge.

Not even five minutes since he stepped out into the cold night air the door opened up. Erik turned away from the egde and found Uno had joined him. His eyes narrowed and he raised his chin. She noticed him, as well, and ignored the door as it shut behind her. She frowned and cocked her head to the side.

"You should be sleeping," he said in a dark, demanding tone. "You have rehearsals tomorrow and being out in this cold weather will endanger your lungs."

She smirked and stepped up to the egde besides him. "So you heard," she mumbled. Erik watched as she made her way silently to the egde and gazed out at the horizon where the dark shadows of the Earth met with the dark shadows of the night sky. "I had hoped news about me becoming the diva stayed quiet."

"Uno—I demand you return to your dormitory at once."

She glanced over at him and furrowed her brows. "Demands? I'm sorry but the last I checked you didn't own me." She put her back to him and feined a cold attitude to warn him off.

Erik balled his fists and growled. "You will do as I say," he growled menacingly. "Or else—"

She turned on him suddenly with fury of her own laced within her words. "_You. Don't. Own. Me,_" She bit out sharply. "And _what_, pray tell, would you do if I don't listen to you? Hit me in the face? Throw me over the edge? _Fire_ me—oh, that's a wise decision."

She turned away from him before he could mutter a response and stepped up to the other side of the rooftop. She stared at the scenery before her and smirked. Erik narrowed his eyes even more and wished he could dislodge his better judgement and do as she advised.

But he knew better than attacking women.

_Fire her… what little she knows I have the ability to do._

He smirked all of a sudden, as if a thought came to mind. "Why would it not be wise to fire you?"

She smiled pettily at him at his question and fluttered her lids, but Erik remained stoic and motionless. "Why—because all the rats call me a witch. Wouldn't you assume I _am_ a witch and I would put a hex upon this whole building if I'm casted out into the shadows of human scum?" Erik turned his head slightly to the side and frowned.

_What is she getting at?_ He wondered.

Uno sighed and returned to the scenery before her. "It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?" She questioned. Erik lowered his head and sighed, allowing the topic change to pass by as easily as she started it. "It's beautiful when life hasn't been plagued by hate."

"What would you know about being plagued by hate?" He barked out bitterly. She frowned over at him and Erik heaved a sigh before turning away. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and raised his gaze up to the sky. "_Humanity_," he mocked her, "knows only what everyone else tells them."

Uno spun around and laughed. Her cloak swirled out around legs as she turned to face him. She clasped her hands together in front of herself and giggled. Erik turned and noticed her eyes were sparkling with a joy he has _never_ seen in her, before.

He felt taken aback.

"I am so thrilled I'm not the _only_ one who thinks that way," she said with such glee he was terrified on what happened to the cold hearted girl he once knew Uno as. "Where I come from I seem to be the _only_ one who notices that, even though the people begun to grow a mind of their own, they still leave their decisions up to the Government."

Erik frowned. "I did not believe the American Government was able to rule the civilian's lives just yet." She paused and stared at him in shock, as if she were a thief caught in the act of stealing a horse.

"They can't," she said slowly. "But... Texas can." Erik frowned and removed his hands from his pants to fold them over his chest. "Everyone believes I am from America but I only told Charline the truth."

"You are Texan?" Erik said, bemused. She glanced away sheepishly and stared down at the street besides her. "It helps explain your strong nature."

She stifled a smirk and murmured, "Thanks," over her shoulder to him. Erik sighed and glanced out at the scenery, as well. "So why are you out here?" She asked him softly. "I couldn't sleep—reoccuring nightmares."

He frowned and glanced at her. "Nightmares?" She nodded. "I'm impressed—you fear dreams when you don't fear anything else."

She frowned. "Hey—stop insulting me. It's too late and I'm too damn tired to argue with anyone. Especially by the likes of you," she snapped. Erik gaped at her, amazed at the words she use and her manner of speaking. "I'm tired, I've got a _long_ day ahead of myself when I _still_ would prefer to dance, I have to fight Priscella as much as I had La Marcella, and even though she's no longer in command of me, Madam Giry continues to ride my ass," Uno explained aggressively. "So I would appreciate it if you would fuckin' chill with the rude comments!"

She put her back to him. Erik continued gaping at her. His heart pounded within his ribcage and he stared in shock at her cold back. "If this is the way Texan's speak in common day use than perhaps you should relearn your surroundings to know women of Paris do _not_ speak in such manner and do _not_ use such words."

"Oh please," she scoffed out. "How many times to I have to tell people that I don't care what others think of me. Everyone can go and get struck by lightening or run themselves in with a sword for all I care." She turned around and sent him a grin. A twinkle of mischief sparkled in her eyes. "And it's common _night_ use—not day."

His eyes narrowed. "You tempt my aggression, Mademoiselle Maxwell," he growled. "I implore you to rethink your motives."

"To what?" She shrugged off before turning her back to him once more. "If I insult you then you deserved it for insulting me. I don't appreciate rude comments—especially when you know I'm right about the _high society of the Parisian streets_." The last bit she mimicked in mock sarcasm.

Erik smirked. "It appears we both have similar beliefs." She snorted. "Only you are not as uninfortunate as I."

"Whatever that means," she murmured.

Erik started for the door. "Do not stay out too late—it is too cold for your lungs."

"You're leaving already?" She asked him. He turned and found her staring at her innocently.

This has been the first time he's seen so much—if any—human emotion on her!

Erik smirked, returning the humanity she gave him. "I am sorry, my dear, but I have a composition I would like to finish before sunrise."

She frowned. "You write music?"

"And at night, nonetheless," Erik added in. "I find it the best time of day to concentrate on my inner turmoil." She continued to stare at him in slight shock. "And yes I write music."

She slowly started to smile. "Goodnight Er—Monsieur Erik."

There was a twinke of delight Erik let flash across his eyes. He bowed his head. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle Maxwell." With use of his ventriloquism, he added in, "Don't stay out much longer," through the statue's figure.

Her gaze snapped over to the statue then back to him before he had a second to run. She narrowed her eyes and Erik saw a grin tug at the corners of her lips. All of a sudden, the small statue behind him began talking in return.

"Don't play with the flame that heats the skillet," it said. Erik snapped his gaze at the statue and gaped. "For then you will be out of the frying pan and into the fire." He turned back to see her eyes narrow and her grin deepen.

"How did you…" he trailed off, utterly confused and slightly stunned. She knew one of his famous talents and part of it frightened him.

Unfortunately, it also enthralled him.

"Fight fire with fire," she murmured. Slowly, she turned her back while purring seductively, "Goodnight, Monsieur Erik."

-

Uno waited until she heard the door shut before turning back around. Erik had left and she couldn't help but release an amused chuckle. It was fun to shoot Erik's bullet back in his own face. The look he gave her was sheer terror, as if he wasn't expecting her to know ventriloquism. It made her laugh.

She hasn't laughed like that in years.

"That felt good," Uno mumbled.

She stepped up to the statue and leaned against it as she stared out at the red lights that displayed the Moulin Rouge. Her smile remained plastered to her face as she eased her frightened mind. Perhaps now, if she were to return to bed, she would be able to get some sleep.

Her knees suddenly bucked out from beneath her and Uno collapsed.

"What the fuck?" She snapped. Uno glanced around and frowned. Her legs became numb all of a sudden, something that has _never_ happened before. "What the fuck happened!"

_It appears you are more tired than even you, yourself, know,_ Zero told her.

Uno narrowed her eyes and growled. "Go away, Zero."

_You are tired,_ it purred into her mind. As if on command, Uno began feeling her lids grow heavier by the second. _You want to sleep._

"You fuckin… fucker," she slurred out, unable to command her own thoughts.

_I believe it's time to show you _why_ you were destined to live this life. If Ricky _had_ killed you… well… I'll let you see for yourself what would have happened._

Before she realized it, she was asleep.

---

It was strange, she had to admit, to see a neo-titanium alloy building in the middle of the Eurpean forest. It was just a giant block but not enough to stand out past the tree lines. The color wasn't silver like the basic, metallic coating of it usually is; it was a camoflauge that had blended in _perfectly_ from the outside. He had parked the jeep outside the compound and helped her inside. When she entered the walls were painting much like they were on the outside and the floor had looked like it was covered with the same dirt and leaves that covered the forest grounds. There were no windows and the doorknob from the front door—if she could even call it that—was as flat as the wall itself.

It electronically locked and slid open into the wall besides it.

The hall stretech down to the end and as she entered Ricky gave her specific warnings not to wander down it or touch anything that may appear odd. She didn't know what it was he was scared of but she followed him through another invisible door when the outer one had slid closed.

Theresa stepped into the living room with Ricky behind her, a bag slinked onto a shoulder and her other necessities left in the hallway outside. She turned to him, a frown etched clearly on her face. Ricky slid each of their bags and suitcases through the door before finally closing it and locking it up. She didn't understand the coding he used on the lock but she knew she was sealed inside when she heard the loud _snap_ from within the walls.

"Ricky?" She murmured. Ricky turned to her, his own face morbid from the same news he had recently received. "What is this place?"

"My dad said we could use it," he said softly.

Theresa turned around and stared at the living room. It was cozy and clean, attaching to a dining room where a bar consisted of one of the walls. On the other side of the bar was the kitchen. Between both rooms—the living and dining room—was a long hallway. It attached to the kitchen then a den onto the right, a study onto the left, a bathroom onto the right, then finally a bedroom at the very end.

There was only one room.

"Some of his friends found this place a while ago and decorated it. They had started to use it as a vacation escape house but I think my dad never told them how to get through the new lock he had installed on it when he updated its technology." Theresa glanced back at him. "He was worried that whoever had killed Uno may try to kill you or me, since she told us everything."

"Oh Ricky," Theresa breathed out. Ricky glanced down to the floor and sighed. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans then shut his eyes when Theresa raised a hand to his cheek. "I can't believe what happened." He nodded, tears threatening to fall. "I mean… we were walking to school and having a blast."

Ricky opened his eyes and found Theresa crying. He wrapped his arms around her and immediately Theresa hugged him back. She dug her head into his chest and cried. Ricky frowned and leant his chin on the crown of her head, his eyes gazing down the hallway and out into space where his mind drifted off too.

Uno was dead.

And now the trio was no more.

"I can't believe what happened," she cried. "I can't believe she's dead."

He rubbed her back, comforting her, and breathed deeply. "Shh," he cooed gently, "we'll be fine here, Theresa. I'll have my dad send us what we need if anything arises to it. You'll see—we'll be alright."

"I'm still scared," she cried. Theresa pushed back and stared up into his eyes. Her blue eyes glimmered back at him through the blurring tears. "I mean—she was only twelve-years-old."

Tears burned Ricky's eyes and he closed them before they could fall. His chest ached and he had trouble breathing. The body in his arms suddenly became frail when she watched her friend get shot through the head three days ago. Normally she would be strong—though not as strong as Uno—and win her daily school arguments through her intelligent mind.

But now that her best friend had vanished before her very eyes, she became a twig in a forst of trees.

He sucked in all of his growing aches and pains and hoisted her up into his arms. Theresa paused and frowned at him but Ricky kept his lips pressed thin. He carried her in both arms down the hallway until he reached the bedroom. Laying her down on the bed gently, he brushed stray brown hairs out of her forhead then moved her ponytail out from behind her neck.

"Get some rest," he told her. Theresa seemed to have relaxed. "You need to try and sleep, Theresa. I'll work on putting everything away, alright?" She stifled a small smile. "I'll contact my dad and tell him we made it alright so he knows to start up the computer."

She frowned suddenly. "Computer?"

Ricky nodded. "Like the computer system that runs Uno's mansion, this little 'house' has one that will protect us incase of emergencies."

"Oh."

"Don't worry Theresa," Ricky learned over and gave her forehead a kiss. "We're fine here." She frowned and glanced away. "We'll stay here for probably a month or more—depending on what my dad says is going on with the outside world."

"Call Duo," Theresa cut in. Ricky gave her a funny look. "So he knows we're alright. He was like a brother to us, remember?" Ricky glanced down, ignoring her piercing, begging eyes. "I'm sure he's devastated about his daughter's death but he needs to know we're alright in return."

Ricky smirked and returned to her. "I can see you've gotten some of her attitude back."

"Please?"

He nodded. "I will, I will. Just relax and try to get some rest. I'll call everyone to let them know what's going on."

She smiled. "You loved her, didn't you?" Ricky felt taken aback and stared at her. "Uno… you loved her a lot."

"Yeah," he murmured. "She was my girlfriend."

She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. "She was like my sister."

Ricky left and closed the door silently. Instead of going straight to their belongings, he instead turned to the door to the study. There were no knobs on the doors. If one wanted to open a door one would have to step up to it.

Unless the computer had locked it shut so one could not escape.

"Clara, mute the speakers in the bedroom," Ricky demanded loudly; his voice couldn't carry through the walls to the next room where Theresa slept, since the entire building was built with reinforced neo-titanium allow.

"The speakers have been muted, Ricky," Clara replied. Ricky shut his eyes and grinned, his head nodding in pleasure at the computer system stolen from the Blassimeer Manor.

Also known as the Winner Mansion where Uno lived.

Clara was a computer system designed off of Blassimeer's daughter, Clara. She was a bright young girl but had died at an early age of brain cancer. Blassimeer was fucked up in the head and didn't try to save her though he knew how; instead, he had delved into her mind and inserted it into a one-on-one computer system.

The Clara in small, woodland hideout was a clone of the real Clara in the mansion off to the side of Winner, in a country across a large gulp of the sea. Winner was the city he had to stay far away from for as long as needed.

"Might I ask who other character my senses scan may be?"

Ricky smirked and folded his arms across his chest. "Unlock the study and I'll explain." An audible _snap_ sounded from within the wall and the door slid into the wall besides it. "Thanks." Ricky stepped into the office, the door sliding shut behind him, and stepped around his desk to take a seat in his executive chair. "Theresa Charline Sanders is Uno's best friend."

"Uno Maxwell?"

"That's right," he admitted. "Blassimeer's extended experiment."

"And the target?"

Ricky kicked back and propped his feet up on the desktop. With a broad grin, he replied, "Eliminated."

"I shall record it to my data files," Clara stated. "The uplink is repaired as of fifteen years prior by Daniel Tanners."

Ricky nodded; he knew his father worked on linking the computer systems together. It was why Ricky was able to stay at this hideout without a fight.

"Send notice to Synodd that I will begin the following processes immediately."

Ricky dropped his feet and picked up the office phone by the edge of the desk. He began dialing numbers on the keypad. He didn't have to worry about blocking his lines from allowing anybody to trace his calls.

His phone was automatically detraceable.

_Curtious of Synodd's Research and Science Technology Department._

The other line picked up and his grin deepened to that of a devil's smile. "Duo—it's Ricky. I'm fine… Theresa and I are hiding out, sine we're Uno's closest friends you never know if we may be hurt next. No trust me… Theresa has already received several threats," he lied. Theresa was an innocent civilian who wouldn't be targeted for even an insect's bite.

"And I've noticed a few people have been following me around town lately." What little Duo knew was Ricky had planned everything out from the start with his father. "I hope you guys are alright—but I called to tell you that we're going to be gone for a while. I'll contact you as soon as we get back home." He hung up before Duo could say anything more.

Ricky knew thoughts were swarming Duo's mind right then. Thoughts like, 'where are you?', 'is Theresa with you?', and 'why do you think _you_ need to hide out?'. Now that the ex Rebels of Space were out of his hair, he could get his much needed work done.

He picked up the phone and began dialing out again. "It's Ricky. Code three-four-two—operation 'Bang' has been completed." Ricky gave the other line a few seconds to record the data before he was finally transfered to his father. "It's me. We made it to the hideout and I've locked down the unit and the outer brim."

"Good, I will have the scientists start constructing Wolf immediately," Daniel replied. "The girl was a true warrior before they could strap her down and combining her with Gundanium Alloy and the wolf's DNA would be a magnificent experiment. This was a fabricated idea, Blassimeer had. I am pleased Maxwell had given you those papers when she questioned them."

Ricky nodded in agreement. "I agree. I have contacted Duo and told him Theresa and I have fled in fear. Send a unit to the Sanders's premises immediately and eliminate her family. I don't want Duo to question them and their deaths would help to back up my lie."

"You told Duo you were being stalked by Synodd and Theresa had received a few threats," his father stated with musement. "I am amazed you have decided to go through with this, Ricky. You put up a fight when you realized you have fallen in love with the enemy."

Ricky narrowed his eyes. "What did you expect me to do?" He countered. "Run to the enemy and expect to be hidden from Synodd? I know Clara runs that unit and you would have learned about my existence in hiding anyways."

"Actually I half expected you to shoot her in the heart so she could still be reconstructed as the same girl," Daniel fought back smugly. "I was expecting you to keep Uno for yourself with no recollition of the past, whatsoever."

Ricky heaved a sigh and frowned. "I was thinking of it," he admitted. "But Theresa is more of an innocent; I'll get more pleasure out of fucking with her mind than just her body."

"Very well. I will expect your return in one month," Daniel demanded. "Don't keep your units waiting. You are to lead them into the Blassimeer Manor, defeat those pesky inhabitants who have taken a life there, and release Turok. I want that creature in my hands."

Ricky felt an evil grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm sure Duo would have a heart attack seeing me as the head of the Experiments and Creations Unit. He would die of shock before I would even have a chance to kill him."

"How long do you suppose it will take on Operation Paperdoll?"

Ricky had to admit, his father had a way with titles. Operation Bang was what they called the mission where Ricky had to eliminate the future obstacle of Synodd, Uno Maxwell. Operation Paperdoll was his mission at inserting the Stockholm Syndrome into Theresa's mind; just like a paperdoll, he was going to mold her into being his bitch for as long as it takes. And although he had a month to achieve his mission he knew with her current devastated mind it wouldn't take but five days.

He'll be over Uno in less than a week.

"I'm certain just five days but let it remain at one month," Ricky explained. "That way I have plenty of time to make _certain_ she lets me fuck her whenever I please."

"Shall I have the Synodd whores killed off?"

Ricky frowned, suddenly in thought. "No… I'm sure I'll eventually grow tired of Theresa—but not for a while."

"They are confined to a few soldiers—they will not last very much longer alone," Daniel warned. "I can obtain newer women to replace them."

He chewed on the inside of his lip and leaned forward. Ricky sighed loudly and rest his elbows on the desktop as he stared into the picture of Synodd's title, hanging on the wall across from him. He frowned and contemplated his choices, realizing something he never thought he would see Theresa as.

"Why not," he murmured. "Let them get used to the soldiers—the new ones, I mean. I'll come back in about a month to wear them into my liking then I'll start having Theresa use them." Daniel gasped and Ricky had to stiffle a chuckle. "Amazed Daniel?"

He knew Daniel wasn't his real father. He just recently found that out.

"You're going to make her fuck the whores?"

Ricky shrugged the topic off. "It's not like she'll later regret it. Once she gets used to me, I'll return. She'll get used to the company and what to expect and by that time I'll get her used to the Synodd whores. She's already falling into my hands to become my bitch and when I think she's ready, I'll force her down onto Sandra and Colleen." Ricky glanced down at the numeric keypad of the office phone and smirked. "I'm sure they'll teach her all she needs to know."

It was silent on the other line for a brief moment. Then finally, there was a grumble and his father's voice returned. "You are entirely the negative side of Morris," Daniel murmured. "As Uno is the positive side."

Ricky smirked. "Well it just comes to show that evil always prospers. I'll be set to return soon. Right now I need to play it safe. Theresa only knows me as the innocent façade I've portrayed for the past some-what years."

"Very well. I'll send a unit to the Sanders's premises immediately."

"Excellent."

"I want a full report each night," he ordered. "This time, each night."

Ricky glanced down at his watch and nodded. "Ten PM it is. Bye."

He hung up and smirked over at the door. It was time to start playing with his dolls, again.

By the time Theresa woke up she wasn't sure what was going on. It was the next day but she was still in a gloomy mindset, still wishing she was just in a bad dream. But when the door slid to the side of the wall and she stepped out into the hallway, the cold air fanned her skin and reminded her that this was, indeed, real.

She scratched an itch on her arm and took a step forward. The door slid open to her right and peeking inside, she found Ricky sitting behind a desk, typing away on a laptop. She stepped into the room and stifled a smirk.

"Hey," she slurred out. "Where did you sleep?"

Ricky frowned and glanced up from his screen. "The couch," he lied. Actually, he hasn't slept yet. "You slept a long time—it's four in the afternoon." She sighed and stared down at the floor. "I called Duo and your parents and alerted them where we are."

Her gaze snapped to his face. "You did?"

Ricky nodded. "Duo's scared for us and hoping we're alright. He wishes we could go to the funeral but I told him it wasn't safe to stay in town." She frowned back down to the floor. "You're parents are happy I took you with me. They were scared for you, as well."

"I hope they're alright," she murmured. "Can I call them?"

Ricky sulked. "I'm sorry, Theresa, but your dad said he was taking your mom out on a date, but their movie begun rather early," he lied. "Perhaps later tonight I'll let you give it a shot—although I'm not certain they'll be home."

"I just want to call them and tell them I love them."

He nodded. "I know."

She faced him. "So what are you up to?"

He sighed. "Well… my tutor had assigned me a paper to write and even though I'm not being educated by him anymore, it's bugging me to complete."

She giggled. "You're just like Uno. You won't stop at a challenge until you've finished it."

He shrugged. "Well—it's why we've always scored a tie for whatever race we did."

She sighed and nodded. "I miss her."

"As do I but you can't keep thinking about it," he told her. "I know you like drawing monsters eating the people you don't like so… there's some art stuff over there in the corner," he pointed to the side of the room. "Why don't you go try and make a monster eating whoever you think had done all of this."

She cocked her head to the side and knitted her brows together. "You don't sound all too pleased."

"I'm not," he tapped the enter key three times before continuing. "I wish my dad had some sort of piano or synthesizer in this place so I can make some more of my music but there's nothing I can use. Not even a fuckin' guitar."

She smirked. "The regular Apollo, cussin' up a storm now that Uno's not here anymore to tell you not too." He frowned over at her.

"Not like I can help it," he muttered. "I've learned through work that life isn't as simple as Uno claimed it to be."

Theresa frowned suddenly. "Work? I thought your father enrolled you into a private home education program so you could spend more time in your studies, away from society."

He nodded. "So I can spend more time in my studies of my job, Theresa. I'm taking over one of my father's jobs."

"One?" He turned away from her and stared ahead of himself. She followed his gaze to the wall and gasped when she saw the Synodd title, embeveled into the wall. "You work for Synodd!"

She felt her heart quicken.

"I'm in charge of the Science and Technology Research Department," he explained. "This hideout was desgined for purposes, such as this."

"Ricky," she breathed out in shock. He turned to her with his genuine, cool expression. There were no traces of his humanity on his face and she stared at him in slight fear. "Synodd is responsible for Uno's assassination!"

"She was in our way," he said amazingly calmly. She gaped at him and took a step back. "If I hadn't achieved my mission I would have had to shoot myself, instead. At least this way, I can protect you from what we're planning on doing."

"Ricky," she breathed out, taking another step back. Ricky stood up from his chair and stared at her. "You killed Uno." The words coming out of Theresa's lips made her blood turn to ice and she began to shiver in fear.

She was in the enemy's grasp and she had fallen for the bait without thinking twice on it.

She was in deep shit.

"No…" Ricky neared her as she continued backing up. "I thought you loved her."

"I did," he replied. "But my work is more important."

"No… no it can't be—you were supposed to be her best friend," she murmured. Theresa raised her voice to a yell. "_She trusted you!_"

Ricky thrusted himself at her and pinned her to the wall of the hallway. Theresa cringed and turned away but Ricky didn't care. He locked her wrists together behind her back and growled into her neck.

"You don't seem to understand," he said. "The more you fight this, the greater the damage until you give in."

"Give into _what_?" She growled in return.

Ricky thrusted his pelvis into her body and she gasped when she felt his growing erection within the confinements of his jeans. He snarled and ripped her away from the wall, ignored her struggles as he forced her into the bedroom, and growled when he threw her to the bed. Theresa slammed down on it roughly and gasped when he charged her.

"Stop it!" She pleaded. "_Please_!"

"Shut up!" He smacked her face and sent her mind spiraling into a world of haziness. "You're to lie there and accept this shit, Theresa—got it!"

"Ricky," she murmured. She turned to face him, her cheek burning from the slap. "Why are you doing this?"

Ricky grabbed the neckline of her t-shirt and ripped a line down the front. He grabbed her bra and tore it away from her body, ignoring the yelp she gave in return to his thrusts. He ignored her question as he shedded his own shirt and started working on her pants.

"Please—what's gotten into you?" She tried sitting up.

"I said to lie there and take it!" He snarled.

He lashed out and backhanded her other cheek, sending her to collapse back onto the bed. Once he had her pants removed he shed her panties off and gazed down at her fragile body. His own member began to throb within his suddenly tight pants and as soon as he took himself out, felt himself growing even stronger. Theresa sat up and stared at him, her eyes slowly growing with fear.

"Y-you can't do this," she muttered aloud. "You're in love with Uno. You _can't_ do this to her!"

"What are you talking about?" He stroked himself as he removed something from his back pocket. "I already killed her off so I don't have to worry about her."

"Ricky—" He slashed at her face with a knife and she immediately covered her cut cheek with her hand. Warm liquid trickled down between her fingers. She stared up at him with ultimate terror.

He began to grin and she sworn she saw the same twinkle in his eyes she once saw in an ancient photograph of the devil from Christianity's belief.

He slowly raised his hand to remove her hand from her face and let her blood pour out into the open. It formed a trail down her cheek and neck and pooled around her collar bone. He smiled and trailed the blade of his knife around her neck and down her chest. He made little cuts around her breasts and over her nipples, ignoring her silent cringes, and felt satisfied when he saw small trickles of blood form around her nipples. He leant down to suck the blood off her body and out of the pores. Theresa gasped when his tongue lapped at her and although she tried to push him off, the blade he dug into the side of her body hurt even more.

"I-I want to go home," she cried. Ricky broke away from sucking the blood through a nipple and frowned at her. "Please?" There were definite tears of innocence on her face.

"Your family is dead, Theresa," he mumbled. Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath. "I had my father send a unit to them before Duo could contact them. Once he finds them dead it'll help explain my lie on us being stalked by Synodd and by the time he ever realizes the truth—if even at all—it'll be too late."

"Ricky," she breathed out. "You're horrible!"

He shrugged his shoulders and watched as he trailed the knife around her thighs. "And you're a virgin about to get fucked bone dry." He turned to face her and almost climaxed when he noticed the ultimate fear in her eyes. "Relax Theresa… when you accept to becoming my bitch and a bisexual little slut for the Synodd whores, I'll stop cutting you up. I'm sure by that time my hardon will come from watching you fuck other women before getting fucked by me."

---

Uno groaned and slowly opened her eyes. The sunlight beamed down upon her, the air mildly cold, and the position she laid in made her bones ache real badly. She frowned and pushed herself up. After glancing around and taking in her surroundings, she realized she had fallen asleep outside sometime last night.

"What the fuck?"

_Did you like this dream?_ Zero asked in a mocking tone. _At least compared to the others?_

She closed her eyes and groaned. "Fuck you, Zero." Uno pushed herself up and stretched. The images of what Ricky had done to Theresa were a low blow in hand-to-hand combat.

It was what did her in, entirely.

_Is it _my_ fault that you decided to not admit your fate? If you _had_ been shot, as you had in the vision, Theresa would have become Ricky's sex slave. At least by her death you have protected her from becoming such a tarnished thing._

She narrowed her eyes and stared up at the sun.

"Holy fuck," she spat. "It's noon!" There was laughter in the back of her mind with her voice. "I'm fucking late!"

_I wonder what they will think of you now._

"Fucking Hell!"

Uno rushed into the building. By the time she reached the stage the ballet was rehearsing. She took a seat in the audience and watched. Madam Giry noticed her and when she gave the ballerinas a break, she stepped up to her.

"Uno," the woman began but Uno held up her hand. She stood up from her seat and took a deep breath.

"I woke up late."

The woman nodded. "Your dressing room is prepared for you." Uno frowned. "It is across from La Cartlotta's dressing room." She extended her hand and gave Uno the key. "You may take the day moving your belongings to that room and perhaps later tonight, if you desire so, I will give you the rest of it."

Uno frowned down at the new key she possessed. "I won't be sleeping in the dormitory anymore?"

"You will—but you have your own escape should you ever need it," the woman explained.

Uno snorted. "And to think I worried about waking up late." She turned to the older woman. "I'll come by later—yes."

Madam Giry eyed her suspiciously. "Is that a wise decision?"

Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back. "Yes," she said defiantely. "It is."

The woman simply nodded. "Very well. I will leave you to your solitude."

She recalled her rehearsal to action and Uno left the theater. Madam Giry was right; she _did_ have a long day ahead of herself but not because she had to move her stuff around.

But because she had to try and ignore the reoccurring visions of her most recent nightmare.

* * *

**Yes... this was a VERY long chapter... perhaps I lost all my readers (and reviewers) back when Uno killed La Marcella. (shrugs)**

**Please reveiw and tell me what you think. If you are confused, please tell me why and I will try and make it clear in the next update.**

**HINT TO THE NEXT CHAPTER: PRIME BALL!**

**... And yes... I am still groggy, aching all over, and very tired. The (Texas) Renaissance Festival really did me in and yet, I plan to go at LEAST 3 more times before the season is over.**


	23. Fooled by Fate

**Well I wanted to post the Prime Ball in this chapter but the image isn't yet ready to show. (grumbles) So I gone ahead and finished up with what I had to post. I'm tired of holding it back from you people--it's good stuff to read.**

**38 Pages long. w00t! I have gotten BACK into my old motives for the Duo's Child series of writing! As I did for DC1, longer chapters, longer updates, and that is because I will be writing the chapter at different times! Not all at once! w00t!**

**Oh yeah... before I forget... I played Tomb Raider 3 the other day (I felt bored--don't ask) and if you want to knowof a good description of Uno, there you go. Lara Croft is rich, powerful, sexy, smart, haslong braid, flexible, isn't bothered by pain, always comes out on top of her challengs, had to kill her boyfriend (Tomb Raider 2 movie, Cradle of Life--with the phantom playing her boyfriend, Gerard Butler), can be extremely posh if needed, has been in military training, and very high-tech. SO UNO!**

**The song Uno sings in here is created by Déantaand is called 'The MaidThat Sold Her Barely' from the album:'Ready For The Storm'.

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-Three - **

Near late afternoon Uno heard a tapping on her dressing room door. She paused in digging within a box and frowned over at the door.

"Come in," she called out. The thin fabric slipped out of her fingers and back into the box. Charline came inside quietly and closed the door behind her. She saw Uno staring into a box of black material, frowning.

"What's the matter?"

"This stuff," she paused before turning to another semi-ripped up box besides her, "was left in here by whoever last used this room."

Charline frowned before taking a seat on the floor besides her friend. "But I thought this used to be another servants quarter."

Uno lowered the crimson fabric and glanced at her. "_Those_ rooms are down the other wing."

"Yes but… some have had rooms here," Charline explained. "I am certain one of them left it here. What do you plan to do with it?"

Uno sighed. "I don't know yet," she breathed out. "But I _do_ know it was beneath the bed."

Charline's eyes grew. "You are given a bed?" She nearly shouted. Uno nodded towards her right where a curtain hung from an arched walkway. "La Carlotta doesn't even have a bed in her dressing room!"

She shrugged her shoulders and replaced the lid. Uno stacked the boxes together then stood up and carried them into the sleeping quarters. She stuffed the boxes beneath the bed and returned to Charline when she was finished.

"So what do you plan to do for Halloween?" Charline stood up and moved to the chair sitting in front of the desk. She took a seat and turned to watch her friend rearranging some stacks of parchment sitting on a shelf. Uno removed a sheet of the parchment and glanced down at it.

Frowning in slight disgust, she began ripping it to shreds. "Worthless song," she mumbled. "I'm going out that night."

Charline cocked her head to the side. "Out? Well where to?"

"Somewhere deserted." Uno dropped the ripped parchment into the bucket she designated to be the trash bin of the room. She turned back to Charline with a serious stare and pressed her fists on her hips. "I need to be alone that night."

"Why Uno?"

"Charline—don't ask questions," Uno urged. "_Please_."

She sulked but nodded her head. "Alright Uno—I won't ask you anymore." Charline glanced at the ground then turned and surveyed the room. She paused when she noticed a large floor-length mirror to her right. "Well—you have a large mirror that I'm not sure many other rooms have."

"Yeah I'm gonna have a drape made for it," Uno took a seat on the floor besides Charline and stared into her reflection. Charline frowned at Uno through the mirror.

"Why? It's a beautiful mirror with such an elaborate frame."

And indeed it was. The frame was pure gold, beveled with elegant designs, and was quite perfect, as if the architech of it had made certain it would be just perfect. The mirror was tall and wide and fit the both of the petite bodies very well. Uno frowned and lowered her head to the floor.

"I'd prefer to keep it covered."

Charline turned and glanced down at her in question. "Why?"

Uno looked into her eyes. "I just don't like having a mirror staring at my room so much."

What Uno _didn't_ tell her was how she hated looking at herself in the mirror.

"Do you think somebody is watching you through the reflection? Oh Uno, you know there are no such things."

Uno cocked a brow. "You have no idea of the abilities magicians have."

Charline's brows knitted together. "Magicians? What do they have to do with this mirror?"

Shrugging it off and turning away, Uno got to her feet and headed into the sleeping quarters. "There are ways to work around a piece of reflecting glass so only one side shows your reflection while the other is a window."

"That is _so_ horrible!" Uno frowned at her friend. "Do you honestly think somebody would be so foolish and _do_ such a thing?"

Uno cracked a grin. "Shows how little you understand people."

Charline's eyes narrowed. "Shows how little you trust people," she countered.

Uno turned away and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well—less to worry about, then."

"Well I must leave." Charline stood up. Uno turned around and frowned over at her friend.

"So soon?"

"Madam Giry has asked me to speak with her after rehearsals. I believe she is going to try and teach me more so that I will dance the next duet with Meg, now that you have stopped dancing."

Uno nodded. "I see."

"Well," Charline waved a hand in the air, "I shall speak to you again, later."

Uno waved back. "Yeah—sure."

She watched Charline leave before heaving a deep breath. Uno desperately needed a relaxing bath but with the cool temperature outside from the oncoming winter, she wouldn't be able to go to the lake to cleanse herself. But unless she wanted to freeze herself to death she wasn't going to dare take to the woods.

Looked like she had to use the washroom for a change.

-

Later that evening Uno went to Madam Giry's room and received her original belongings in a small box. She frowned down at the box when the older woman handed it to her. The woman paused and stared at Uno.

"Something amiss?"

"You boxed it?"

"I believe it should be hidden," the woman explained. Uno glanced up to see her warning gaze. "These items are not from around here."

"Oh well. How are the rehearsals going, so far?"

The woman heaved a sigh before turning away to retreat to her desk. "Poorly."

"I'm sorry," Uno murmured. She was usually the one to make the ballet appear great.

"The ballet had finally learned their steps but the opening act for the play just won't do." The older woman took a seat on her setee and frowned up at Uno. "Monsieur Reyer has tried to get the part corrected—the _owner_ has tried and _he's_ a genius." She shook her head and lowered her gaze to the floor. "We need a new opening."

"What was the opening?"

"It was a short skit of an old Scottish pub," Madam Giry continued. She glanced up at Uno. "There was to be a bass singer and a soprano but Carlotta wouldn't sing to something where she would only be given a short amount of time on stage. We have tried to extend the act so she would have ample spotlight, however she still disapproves of it."

Uno glanced down, feeling mild dread. "Uno—you must really learn to sing Opera."

She shook her head and sent a dark glare to her ballet mistress. "I won't be used as backup."

"But we have no opening!"

"How much time does the opening require?"

"At _least_ three minutes though Carlotta has managed to extend it to five," the woman answered. "But Monsieur Reyer cannot give her anymore time without running into the play itself and the owner has worked on figuring out a way to get everything situated, as well."

Uno cocked a brow. "The owner?"

"Yes," Madam Giry agreed. "He is a genius."

"He's the enemy if he's a genius," Uno scoffed.

The color drained from the woman's face for a brief second. "I beg your pardon?" She breathed out.

"In the words of Disreali," Uno began, "No enemy is so terrible as a man of genius." The woman lowered her head. "I'll have an opening made for you by tomorrow's morning."

And with that Uno left the room.

-

The following morning Uno rose as early as normal and headed straight for the theater. She was alarmed to find Monsieur Reyer up and about. He was standing over his podium and rearranging his music when he noticed Uno step into the room.

"Mademoiselle Uno," he bowed his head. "I greet you a good morning."

Uno bowed her head in return and delivered him a smile. "A good morning to you, as well, Monsieur."

He raised his head when she neared him. "What may I help you for?"

Without another word she handed him the packet of music. He took it from her hands and glanced down at it. "This…?"

"I heard you needed an opening," Uno explained. The conductor turned to gape at her. "I have spent all last night preparing this song for you. I just need to prepare myself as you prepare the musicians and I promise I will prove to be a success."

He returned to the papers. "Have you created the song to fit the theme?"

"A Scottish comedy? Yes, I have."

He nodded and flipped to scan the next few pages of music. "After your last encounter with music I assumed you have taken the hint," he told her honestly. Uno frowned and when he glanced at her, found she didn't know what he meant. "Women are not known to write music, Mademoiselle. If the public should learn that a woman has written this then they will refuse to attend the play and your ratings would drop."

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air. "The babbling gossip of the air," Uno retorted.

Monsieur Reyer smiled. "Shakespeare."

She nodded. "I've read enough to quote him. Look—just tell everyone _you_ created this piece then."

"Are you certain it would work?"

Uno sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "Do what lieth in they power, and God will assist in thy good will," Uno told him before smiling genuinely. "A man named Thomas Kempis said that, once."

He frowned. "Thomas Kempis?"

"He died in the middle fourteen hundreds. He was a medieval Christian monk, or so I read."

He nodded once again. "So you believe this to be possible?"

"Nothing is impossible," she countered. Then with a grin, her eyes twinkled up at him through mischief. "I would know."

"Very well. I shall begin today. When I feel we are ready to work together, I will inform you."

She bowed her head then turned and left him alone with her Scottish piece.

-

Uno ignored the rehearsals that day. She basically had her part down for the Scottish opening and the script itself was pretty much finished, as well. She decided to head back to Madam Wilma's and ask for a new item to be made.

Uno donned on a crimson gown and wrapped her black cloak around her shoulders. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and froze. Complete with her long brown braid, her bright violet-blue eyes, black cloak and red dress, she almost looked like Red Riding Hood.

_How about that? Now I just need a wolf and I'm basically complete._ She mused.

_Except for the fact that Red Riding Hood had a _red_ cloak, not a black_, Zero countered. Uno sighed turned away from the mirror.

"Shaddup," she grumbled. There was chuckling in her head. "Or else."

_Or else what? You will stab me with a q-tip? Don't forget, not much of what you're used to exist anymore._

Uno narrowed her eyes and left the room in a sudden, angry blur.

By the time she reached Madam Wilma's boutique she was relaxed. The bell rang when she entered the shop and instead of waiting to be greeting, headed straight to the back of the room. The older woman came out from the back and paused when she saw who it was.

"Well good morning, Mademoiselle Uno."

Uno bowed in return. "Good morning."

"You're dress isn't yet finished," Wilma got right to the point. "But by next week I assure you it will be."

Uno nodded. "That's alright. I didn't come here to pick it up."

"Oh?"

"I would like you to make me a simple drape for my mirror."

Wilma's brows creased. "E-excuse me?"

Uno turned and glanced at a few photographs hanging on the wall to her right. "I have a new room in the Opera Populaire—since I've become a Diva. There's a floor length mirror and I don't always like it showing. I'd like something to cover it."

"Alright," Wilma dragged out. She turned and glanced down at the countertop. "What kind of fabric?"

Uno shrugged. "Anything black or crimson."

"I shall see what I have." She turned back to the Diva. "Do you have the measurements?"

"Nah." Uno returned to the woman and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess just make it twice my size and if it's larger than so be it."

She nodded. "I will most likely have _that_ finished by tomorrow evening."

"Alright."

Wilma sent her a weak smile. "Until then, Uno."

Uno bowed her head. "Until then."

-

Erik stalked the shadows of the halls until he came in contact with his target. He waited in silence until the manager departed before making his move. When ready and nobody else was around, Erik stepped up to the man. Monsieur Reyer was startled when Erik made his presense known. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it was the owner and lowered his head.

"You are still quite the ghost, Monsieur," Reyer murmured.

Erik narrowed his eyes. "What is this new music I hear you teaching my musicians? What has happened to our original opening?"

"Mademoiselle Uno has prepared a new song," Reyer explained. "She stated that she has spent all previous night preparing it specifically for the gala."

"And does she not know our theater will not sell if a woman creates music for the play?" Erik growled.

Reyer nodded in agreement. "This is why I have accepted her notion of admitting I made the piece." Erik felt taken aback. "Mademoiselle Maxwell is quite an intelligent woman."

Erik glanced off to the side. "I have found that out myself," he murmured. "She does have talent."

Reyer nodded. "That she does. She will be solely singing for this new act, which will relieve La Carlotta of her fears and us of our hard work at rearranging our opera."

"However Carlotta will complain," Erik reminded. He turned back to his conductor with a snarl. "Uno has done nothing other than interject in our business! She is no other than a backup Diva!"

Monsieur Reyer licked his lips. "Monsieur Erik, if I may be prone, but I feel that she knows what she is doing. She has a determined air which warns fools away from her."

Erik narrowed his eyes and his voice to a growl. "So I have noticed," he snarled. "Though she knows not a thing about the phantom, as I have _also_ noticed."

"I'm aware nobody has told her yet," Reyer muttered. "Even her friend, Mademoiselle Charline."

Erik nodded. "Do not tell Uno, either." Reyer frowned but Erik simply smirked. "I think the wench needs a reminder on who exactly runs this opera."

Reyer swallowed back. "Shall I inform her that this piece will be canceled, then?"

"No," Erik breathed out in a sigh. "We will continue with it but afterwards, I want you to not accept anything else from her without consulting me about it, first."

The conductor nodded. "I understand, Monsieur."

Erik smirked. "She will learn the _hard_ way _not_ to play with the phantoms flame."

Reyer swallowed again. "Just promise me that you will not try and have Don Juan Triumphant to be used for another act." Erik eyed him strangly. "I feel she may _actually_ like that piece."

Erik smirked. "I feel the same thing, Monsieur Reyer. I feel the same thing."

-

Uno finished braiding her hair when she heard a knock on her door. She opened it while tying the end of her long raid and found Monsieur Reyer on the other side. She smiled and bowed her head.

"Monsieur?"

"Mademoiselle, might we hear this piece you have prepared for us?" Uno frowned. "I believe the musicians would like to work the rest with the diva so we can assume we are along the correct path."

"Oh. Sure—I will be there shortly." He departed and Uno shut the door. She turned and began heading towards her vanity table.

_Funny… I just realized how much you've changed since you arrived, Uno_, Zero commented. _You've become a _friendly_ person._

Uno froze at the notion and glanced over at the mirror. By her reflection she looked just like the girl who fought Synodd all alone but Zero was right, she _has_ changed.

She has become more open.

Uno smiled and noticed a sparkle in her eyes. "It's for the better."

_Or so you think._

"It is," she repeated. "Because these people are not my enemy."

_I know this already. But you still have enemies following you around, least you forget._

Uno froze and her smile vanished. Zero was right; Priscella still stalked her every step, waiting for the right moment to attack.

_See what I mean? No matter where you are, you will _always_ have enemies._ Uno closed her eyes and bowed her head in shame. _As Heero once stated when we fought againze Oz, 'so long as mankind exist, there will always be battles.'_

"Go away," Uno whispered.

_And you know why you always have enemies?_

"Go away," she whispered again."

_Because you have to compete and challenge _everyone_. You remember what Colton had stated, 'If you want enemies excel others; if you want friends, let others excel you'. Well Uno, you're definitely making enemies!_

"Shut up!" Uno opened her eyes and stared back into the eyes of her true self, the assassin. She screamed and grabbed a candlestick from the vanity table and hurled it at the mirror.

"I am _not_ the same anymore!"

The candle stick smashed into the mirror and shattered the glass into a million pieces. Instead of hitting the wall it continued to fly straight through the wall. Uno froze and watched in disbelief as the candlestick bounced off a stone wall in what appeared to be a secret passage way.

"What the fuck?" She murmured.

Uno stepped lightly and reached the corners of the frame. She poked her head through the mirror and glanced down the halls to her left and right. It was dark, filled with cobwebs, and rats littered the floors.

"It's a tunnel," she mumbled.

_Old places have these things so they may hide when being attacked,_ Zero explained.

Uno carefully followed the tunnel until she came to a stairwell leading downward. The staircase began on her right and coiled around towards her left, all the way into darkness. She frowned and peered over the ledge. It was a long ways down and into what, she didn't know.

She stole a glance back at the way she came then returned to the stairs. Taking the first step, she paused and realized something.

"I can't do this."

_What?_

"I can't do this," Uno repeated. She pulled her foot back.

_You can't do something—this is new._

She shook her head and turned around. "I'll come back after rehearsals."

_Why not now?_

"Monsieur Reyer had called for me," Uno explained more to herself than to the voice in her head. "I can't leave a person hanging."

_Spoken like a true soldier._

"Besides—I may need the flexibility," she added in. "I'll come back with a different outfit on."

-

Erik sighed and took a seat in his private box, Box Five. He was really tempted to go back down to his organ and play some more but he wanted to see exactly what Uno had made for the gala. Monsieur Reyer returned to the theater and stepped up to his podium. The ballet was performing on stage, rehearsing for their act. And La Carlotta had sent in a note saying she refused to return to the stage until she was given her spotlight back.

Erik hated having to give her what she wanted but until they could get Uno to sing opera, they had to suffer.

Speaking of which, Uno entered the theater at that same moment.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell," Monsieur Reyer greeted. "The ballet is about to go on break—would you be so willing as to demonstrate to us your lyrics?"

She nodded and stepped upstairs to the side of the stage. Not once did Uno smile at the conductor, at Madam Giry, or even her few ballerina friends. Meg and Charline stepped up to her from the side; they didn't have to dance with the rest since they were the next duet.

"Are you alright, Uno?" Charline pondered.

In a cold tone, Uno replied with, "I'm fine."

Meg frowned with worry at Charline before returning back to Uno. "Do you not wish to do this?"

Uno sent a cold glare that matched her voice and narrowed her eyes. Erik stifled a smirk, watching the young diva turn enemies of her friends.

"I said I was fine, Meg," Uno growled back. "Just leave me alone."

"Uno," Charline began but Uno's growl had warned her away. "Very well, Uno."

"Girls," Madam Giry called out. "You are to return back here in exactly half an hour."

Uno stepped up to the center stage as the corpse de ballet filed out. She kept to herself and ignored the commotion, knowing some of the girls were staring at her in both jealousy and hatered.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell?" Reyer called out. Uno raised her head and opened her eyes to see the conductor staring at her in weary. "Are you prepared?"

Uno sent a comfirmed nod of her head. "Yes Sir, I am." She glanced down at the stage and tapped the point of her shoe on it. Hearing a soft _tap_ in return, she figured it would do just enough. Monsieur Reyer frowned at her but Uno simply ignored his look and sent another comfirmed nod of her head his way.

"I am ready."

"Good.

Monsieur Reyer returned to his musicians and struck up the music. He glanced up and watched as Uno took a few steps back and raised her head to stare out at the audience. Erik's brows creased as he heard the violens strike in with a soft melody.

_This is a new twist_, he mused.

It was a sound he hasn't heard in a while, but he did recall listening to it once in his life. When he was a very small and traveled with the Gypsies, there was a place they performed at. He found the music soothing but not something he would enjoy playing himself. It was called Celtic; a true Scottish or Irish tune.

And Uno had made this song quite well, by the way he recalled the song he heard in his childhood.

She held an arm out to her side while the other curled into her chest and as she sang, she danced around as if she were explaining the scenery. Her voice was a little higher than her normal speech but not soprano. Her accent, on the other hand, had an Irish twinge to it.

"It's cold and raw, the north wind's blow—black in the morning early… when all the hills are covered with snow—oh then it was winter fairly." She leaped onto another foot in a weird way that reminded him of another aspect of that old Celtic song he once heard.

"As I was riding o'er the moor, I met a farmer's daughter. Her cherry cheeks and sloe'black eyes—they caused my heart to faulter." Uno leapt to another foot in the same fashion of dance that was quite strange to the French and continued by bowing as if she had a hat on her head.

"I bide my bonnet very low to let her know my meaning. She answered with a courteous smile—her looks they were engaging." Here, her voice mildly changed. "Where are you bound, my pretty maid—it's now in the morning early?" Her voice returned to normal only this time she swayed her arms as if telling a story. "The answer that she made to me—'Kind sir, to sell me barley."

Uno gave a chaming smile out to the answer and fluttered her lids. The flute solo picked up and she danced a few steps with her feet. The steps were odd and strange, basically twisting around each other. She tapped the toe of her shoe at some points, others the heel, and leapt to and fro on her her feet, switching at certain times.

She stopped after a few seconds of dancing to return to singing. "Now twenty guineas—I've in my purse, and twenty more that's yearly. You need not go to the market town, for I'll buy all your barely. If twenty guineas would gain the heart of the maid I love so dearly, all for to tarry with me one night, and go home in the morning early." She leapt to another foot again.

"As I was riding o'er the moor—the very evening after. It was my fortune for to meet the farmer's only daughter. Although the weather being cold and raw with her—I thought to parley, the answer then she made to me 'kind sir, I've sold me barley," again, she smiled and fluttered her lids to the audience.

The flut and violen duet picked up once more and again, she carring on with her stange dance, only this time it got even stranger. Her arms spred out to the sides, as if to keep her balanced, but Erik knew the real reasons they were outstretched: they waved around to match the odd switching of the feet. She switched feet constantly and touched toe-to-heal nearly as much as possible, trailing to one side of the stage then across to the other. Finally when the music died down, she landed back in the center with her head bowed and her arms lowered.

"That… what sort of dance was that, Mademoiselle?" Monsieur Firmin had asked. Andre was also quite baffled.

Uno glanced over at him. "The song is Celtic," she explained. "The dance is an Irish folk dance—as is the song."

"Is it _really_ a folk song?" Andre questioned.

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "Does it matter? It fits for your opening, does it not?"

Erik smirked. _Indeed it does._

"Well… I suppose so…" Firmin frowned down at Andre to avoid the girl. Monsieur Reyer smiled up at her.

"It was wonderful—it will do perfectly." Uno bowed her head. "Thank you."

"Now if you'll excuse me," Uno muttered. "I should like to get back to my dressing room. I still have a few things to put away."

Erik watched as Uno made her departure before standing up as well. He had a few errans to run, himself. He normally waited until the night to take to the streets but since claiming open ownership of the Opera Populaire he found that he no longer needed to be afraid of the public. They accepted him for who he was—however how frightened they still were of him. And he was well prepared to make his debut at the Prime Ball.

But he needed a new suit.

-

Uno locked the door when she entered the room and turned to face the mirror. Although part of her wanted to believe the mirror was put back together when she was gone she knew it still remained shattered on the ground in a million shards. She frowned and instead of going straight into the passageway, headed to the armoir.

As fast as she could, Uno ripped the dress from her body and hung it in the armoir. She took off every layer of Victorian undergarments she had on and stuffed them away into the drawers. Then, as nude as the day she was raped by Synodd soldiers, Uno stepped up to the bed and dropped to the floor. Beneath the bed and hidden behind the boxes she found the fabric in, Uno removed the box Madam Giry had stored her belongings in. She dressed in her bra, panties, and socks then slipped on her black military jeans and black tanktop.

Uno glanced down at the remaining contents of the box and found her gun. Slowly, she picked it up and examined it. It's been so long since she last held it. Looking at it now that she had grown adapted to _not_ having it around at all the times of the day made her notice the dark array of shadows lurking over the barrel. Ejecting the clip, she found it full with ammunition and still, she had several clips ready to go.

"Just in case," she breathed. Uno tucked it away in the back of her pants behind her shirt then began sticking the remaining clips in all of her pockets.

_Ready for war again, aren't we, Uno?_

"Just in case," she repeated, feeling a sense of comfort at having the gun with her. She never noticed until then that she's been quite naked without having it around, as if she had a hole in herself that only the gun could fill.

_You felt empty without the gun because it reminded you that you're not normal and that you don't belong here._

Uno snorted. "That's reassuring to know. Thanks for the comfort, Zero."

_Honestly Uno… look at your ID if you don't believe me._

Uno picked up her wallet and flipped it open. Inside, she found her Identification Card, Social Security Card, Credit Cards, and even a few pictures of her past. She stifled a smile when she saw Duo was the first picture.

"Duo," she whispered. Uno stroked her finger across the glazed coating and wished she could speak to him one last time.

_That's why these things make you feel comfortable. Without them, you don't know who you are._

She stuffed the wallet into her back pocket then zipped it up. Uno glanced down at the remaining items and bit her lower lip. About seven different keys for the different automobiles she had to drive layed there, various bullets for various guns poked up at her, and a few folded pieces of paper. She picked up one of the pieces and opened it up.

'Code 35—rule No.2' was writtin in black, scrawny ink; it was the note she made the day she had to find out why the space ports were transporting Gundanium Alloy.

The day she was captured and raped.

Uno folded it back over and replaced it. She covered the box then stuffed it back beneath the bed. She removed the military boots from under the bed afterwards and laced them up her feet all the way up her shins. After she was set, Uno returned to the main room.

She froze when she caught her reflection in the vanity table mirror.

_Would ya look at that?_ Zero mused. _You look like Uno Maxwell now—not like Uno Cleaver._

She stifled a smirk. "It feels good to be dressed in modern day clothing again."

_Modern day?_ Uno turned to the portal and stepped through. _I believe you mean, _futuristic_, Uno. Modern day requires that gown._

Beneath the thick soles of her heavy boots crunched the shards of glass. Uno stalked her way down the narrow hallway until she came to the staircase. She glanced over the ledge before descending into the darkness. Each step she took was careful and precise, her body turned to the side so if the need rose, she could protect herself rather than walk straight into danger. To her right and hanging on the walls were large tapresties, flapping in the mild wind she felt floating up from the hole below. They looked like Gypsy designs and wall hangings; nothing she was really used to if it's not from a book.

Her foot stepped onto another step and something loud snapped. She froze then felt herself falling. The staircase beneath her opened and if Uno hadn't learned her lesson from the last time this had happened, she would have fallen straight through.

However Uno _did_ learn her lesson and she grabbed the ledge before she lost her chance.

She winced as the grasp stung her fingers and cringed when the stone dug into her skin. She was _so_ out of fit to do what she was trained all her life to do, and she only spent a few months getting out of shape, too! Uno looked down at the hole she hung in and frowned.

"What the fuck?"

Beneath her was a large watery pool. A noise activated with an audible _crank_ and soon a _humming_ started up. She hung there, her legs dangling in the air, as she watched some form of grate coming out of the walls to the right and covering the entire watery pool. It began to lower, telling Uno that she would have drowned if she just flat out fell.

She smirked. "Whoever designed this tunnel sure expected to kill their enemies."

Uno let go of the ledge and fell. She landed on the grate, one knee bent down and both of her hands touching the cold metal. The grate shook when her weight landed on it and soon water from below began to seap through the opened holes. A noise from above told her to look up and when she did, she found the trap door had closed back up. Before her, carved out of the stone wall, was another tunnel. Uno rose to her feet and just as the water was reaching her ankles she ran and leapt into the dark portal.

The second portal was a good walk and for a second she sworn she heard flowing water, as if it sounded like a river was close by. When the tunnel came to a fork she paused.

"Great—this reminds me of something."

_Make sure the center of the room isn't another trap door,_ Zero noted. Uno frowned and glanced down but there were no indentions of the edge of a door anywhere on the floor. _Since the last time this happened, you fell through and got captured._

She took a deep breath and glared into both dark tunnels. "Which one?"

_I would assume you check them both out—however, _you're_ the perfect assassin here._

"Come on, Zero—help me out here," Uno muttered. "You're the computer program that runs battle strageties."

_Then take both—for all you know one is a trap or they both connect after fooling the victim, much like you're being fooled now._

Uno rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she mused. "I feel _so_ much better." She ignored the chuckle then headed down the left tunnel.

_Why do you choose this one?_

"Why do you choose the right?" She countered. "I have a hunch."

Uno came to a dead stop and found a flowing river before her. She frowned down at it and glanced from both sides. Where she stood was like a built hallway, carved straight out of the stone walls. There were shapes and faces on the walls of designs she found rather strange—and her tastes in designs were odd enough—and the candelabras that flickered with fire were amazingly not put out by the dripping of water from the ceiling.

She backed up and turned around.

"Apparently I took the wrong route," she muttered to herself. She heard more chuckling and rolled her eyes. "Ya think I won't be even just a _slight_ bit like Duo?"

_You sound almost exactly like him._

Uno smirked and returned to the fork. She turned left and made a U-turn, straight into the second tunnel. Finally, after another long walk, she came to another portal.

Or so she thought.

She walked right into it and found it was as solid as the wall.

"What the fuck?"

_Something's blocking the way._

Uno held out her hands and felt around on it. It was smooth and that told her that it _wasn't_ stone. It felt odd and slightly cold. There was no dampness to it whatsoever and going all the way to the bottom, she felt the same smooth texture. She frowned and turned back to the end of the tunnel where she had emerged from. The wall sconces lit the darkness just enough to see but there wasn't a wall sconce near her at the moment and she couldn't tell if the 'wall' was moveable or not. She didn't feel a doorknob so she figured it wasn't a door.

_Perhaps it's another mirror?_ Uno whipped her colt out from behind her and aimed at the obstacle. _You think that is wise?_

"It's in my way," she grumbled. "I kill everything that's in my way."

She could swear if a program would grin, Zero would have grinned from that. _Now we're talking Fighter-pilot Uno, here._

She pulled the trigger and the shot rang so loud it actually made her ears buzz. The obstacle shattered and fell to the ground, telling her that it was, indeed, just another mirror. She smirked and tucked the gun away into the back of her pants again, hiding it behind her shirt. Uno watched as the remaining pieces of the mirror fell to the floor and frowned when she noticed the other side of it. She had made certain to aim at the floor when she shot so she wouldn't hit anything on the other side, just in case.

But she _wasn't_ expecting anything on the other side!

She stepped through and into the new room. Before her stood several candleabra's, all flickering with fire. A lake of molten water sat still beneath the ledge. To her right and after a few more feet was a massive black organ—an instrument she recalled only playing once back home. Following the platform and down towards the back of the cave was what appeared to be a study—though there were no walls to really make it that. On all the walls were drapery and rugs and around the study were drawings and paintings.

Uno turned and glanced at her left. It was a short hallway—though there was only a ledge on the right that would dip off into the lake. She followed up the steps and paused. There was a small opening to her left that had drapery hanging from all around and a bland maniquen standing bare in the center. She frowned and continued going up the steps. She came to another opening that appeared to be used as a bedroom. There was a massive bed with the frame shaped like a swan and a black, lace curtain hung around it.

"Who in the hell lives here?" Uno muttered.

_You best leave,_ Zero warned. _If somebody lives here—they may be purely disturbed._ Uno backed up and retreated down the stairs. _Even though you're disturbed enough, in _this_ day and age, the _really_ disturbed individuals weren't kept hidden._

She landed back on the main platform where she had entered. "Who would live here?"

"I would."

Her eyes widened and her heart quickened. The voice was deep and dark, holding a threat to the tone of it. She swallowed and slowly turned around to find a man dressed in pure black—cloak and all—with a black mask covering the top part of his face and he was holding the pole of a Gondola.

A Gondola that was floating besides him on the lakeshore.

A Gondola that _wasn't_ there a second ago.

_He must have seen you before you glanced at the lake ane hid._

Uno frowned and turned completely around. The man removed his cloak and let it fall to the floor without a care for it. He took a few menacing steps in her direction then to her right where, leaning against the wall, was a rapier. He unsheathed it and held it out.

"Explain yourself, boy," he growled, "before I depart you from my home."

A nerve twitched in Uno's temple. "Boy?" She retorted. "The only boy I see here is you—thinking you can beat me with a sword."

His eyes narrowed and he took another step closer, flinging the sheath to the side of the oddly shaped room. "I warn you, you are treading on thin waters."

Uno frowned. "You think you can threaten me in an unfair fight? I don't have a sword."

He smirked then and pulled back. "Where are my manners?" The man turned and headed back to where he picked up his rapier. This time, he picked up another and returned to where he just stood. He flung it out to her and Uno used both hands to grasp it tightly.

She grunted when she caught it.

"Are you prepared, now?" He was clearly mocking her.

Uno frowned and removed the sword. She dropped the sheath to the floor and held the blade out at him. "I have to admit—it _was_ a long walk here."

"Do you know how to use that correctly?" He was now teasing her.

Uno nodded. "I stab it in you," she muttered. The man chuckled.

"That's correct," he muttered in return. "You stab me with it. Now see if you can."

Uno screamed and charged at him but the man dodged to the side. She spun around and gripped the hilt tighter, glaring at him as she did so. He only grinned and kept his sword lowered, beliving her to just flop the rapier around.

"Care to try again?" He raised his sword and Uno copied him. "Or do you mildly give up?"

"Not without a fight," she snapped. The man chuckled and she charged again, only this time he blocked her attempts without a try.

"Quite a worthless swordsman, are we?" He mocked before spinning his wrist and slapping the sword away from his body. Uno growled and flung her arm outstretched in a vain attempt to stab him in the gut.

"I _will_ kill you!" She growled. "Make no mistake about _that_!"

"I am waiting," he chuckled. Uno backed up and heaved a loud sigh. "You give up?"

She bowed her head and calmed her heart. She had warmed up by pretending to not know a thing and gotten her opponent set on believing she couldn't fight.

Now it was time to _really_ fight.

Uno opened her eyes into a dead glare and spread apart her legs, one closer to him than the other. She outstretched the arm that held the rapier and pointed the blade up then folded her other arm behind her back. She raised her chin and eyed him.

"_Now_ we can fight."

The man narrowed her eyes and glanced at her stanze. "So it seems you _do_ know the sword after all? Or are you just copying what you have learnt from watching your father duel?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Much like that," she admitted. "Though since I was a child I trained to become a master swordsman."

"How sad that you should fail at such a task, then."

Uno grinned. "Are you a dolt? I've only just warmed up."

He smirked and got into a stanze as well. "Then perhaps you may actually manage to slap my sword away from _you_?"

She was silent for a moment before murmuring, "You have no idea."

Uno charged and lunged at him with full strength. The man was actually not expecting her outburst and stumbled back a few feet. The sounds of metal clashed together as they slapped each other's rapier away from themselves.

"You appear to know quite well," he muttered as he slashed at her arm. Uno winced as her skin was cut but it didn't push her away from the fight. Instead, she lashed out at his left thigh.

"As I _said_," she snapped, "I was trained to be _perfect_!"

The man winced as she cut his right shoulder then proceeded to slap the rapier out of his hand. Metal clashed again and suddenly the sword was flung out of her hands. He grinned as she gasped.

"It appears you are _not_ such!" He snarled.

Uno backed up as he lunged at her. She knew taking back steps—and reaching the study at the same time—wouldn't work so instead she leapt into the air and did a back flip. While she was in the air she whipped the gun out of her back. The second she landed she cocked it in his face.

He froze when he saw a gun in his face then began to lower the sword.

"What is this?"

"A Colt Python," Uno explained. "A very powerful gun from where I come from. My father gave it to me for my sixth birthday—so it holds some sentimental value to me."

The man gazed at her in alarm. "He gave you a pistol for your birthday?" The, as if a thought struck his mind, he corrected himself. "I suppose such acts could happen. After all, what father _wouldn't_ wish to train his son?"

Uno cocked a brow. "Son? I'm sorry but I'm a woman—if you can't tell."

The man frowned and leaned in closer. Uno lowered the gun just enough so he could see around it. It now pointed at his chest—another vital target should he advance on her. The rapier fell out of his hands and he gasped.

"Uno Maxwell?"

Uno narrowed her eyes and raised the gun back to his head. "How did you know my name?"

"Of all the rats I am surprised to find you possess the most of bravery," he mused. "Though I should have expected it, already."

She turned her head to the side and glance at him from another angle. "Just who the hell are you and how the fuck do you know my name?"

He reddened at her words but simply shook his head to clear up the intensity of such language. "We met a few times. I am Erik."

She dropped the gun and smirked. "Well I'll be damned," she mused before tucking it away behind her back again. "I didn't know you lived down here."

Erik turned and glanced down at the sword he had dropped. "You are quite an excellet swordsman but you still lack skill."

"Oh," she waved her hand in the air. "I got the skill." He frowned at her. "I gave up on the sword so I could grab my gun. I'm an excellent swordsman but I'm a _much_ better sharpshooter."

He raised his head to glance at her in another light. "I see. Now if you would so kind as to explain what you are doing in my lair dress the way you are?"

Uno bit her lower lips, as if she had forgotten one of her steps. "Oh… well… I had a fit and threw a candlestick at my mirror. I expected it to bounce off the wall but instead, it flew _through_ the wall and into a secret passage way."

Erik nodded. "Behind each mirror that passageway runs."

"I didn't want to wreck my dress so I—" she bit her tongue to keep from explaining her possession of her clothing.

"Dressed in men's frock, once aagain?" Erik finished for her. Uno nodded. He sighed and turned away from her. "I could have killed you."

"But you didn't," she mused.

He spun to her and snarled, "Yet now I have a mirror to fix!"

"_Two_ mirrors… to be exact." Erik frowned and Uno pointed at the mirror she broke to get into the lair. He turned and glanced at the shards on the floor then spun back around at her, this time in shock.

"You survived the pool?"

"So _that's_ what you call the watery grave you wish to drown your victims in," she retorted. "I almost fell but grabbed hold of the ledge until I found the right time to let go."

He nodded. "Didn't you know curiosity killed the cat?"

Uno cocked a brow, amazed the corny line was invented in this timeline. "So I'm a pussy—all women are." He reddened in the face and turned away from her language once more. "Besides, didn't you know," she countered, "satisfaction brought it back,"

Erik snorted and stepped up to his organ. He pressed his fists on the side of the organ and leaned over. "What is it you want here?"

"Nothing. I followed the path out of boredom and… curiosity." She stepped up to the organ and stroked the keys with her fingers. Erik watched as she lightly pressed down on one of the sharps before sliding her finger down onto the scales.

"You can play?"

"I only had a few chances to play the organ in my youth. I've learnt one song, however."

Erik stared at her then slowly raised his head. "Play it."

It was of a demand.

Uno nodded and took a seat. She sprayed her fingers out across the keys and began to play loud notes. She only had a few times in her childhood to play the song so it wasn't entirely perfected. It was dark and loud, the notes high and full. After the first few chords, she pressed down on all of her fingers to allow the rest of the music to be played.

Uno closed her eyes as she succumbed to the song. The notes drifted her away into another world and behind her closed lids she felt she was back home, in the Music Room of the Classical Wing, playing the instruments of Quatre's possession.

When the notes died she found herself again. Uno landed and slowly opened her eyes. She slid her fingers off the keys and stared down at where they just played on the organ keyboard.

It's been so long since she's had music in her life, perhaps singing would be a good thing?

"That was… amazing," Erik muttered. Uno turned and glanced up at him with saddened eyes. "You are very talented."

She lowered her head and breathed out, "Thanks."

"Your ability to play is just the same as your ability to sing. Perhaps if you sang Opera you would be even more beautiful than now?"

Uno pushed up from the bench and put her back to Erik. "I don't sing Opera," she told him flat out. "I don't even want to sing right now."

"Do you know how?" She turned to find him gazing at her in weary. "Can you sing Opera?"

"No."

"But you can sing as a soprano?" She nodded. "How?"

"I was born like that."

Erik nodded in acceptance. "If you would permit… I may be able to train you to sing Opera."

"I don't want to learn Opera, Erik." He frowned. "I have my reasons."

His eyes narrowed. "Then you may not find yourself in this theater for very much longer."

_That_ made her freeze.

"What?"

"I have heard Monsieur Reyer mention to me that the owner of this building is thinking of ending your contract. He does not approve of your music talent." She gaped at him. "Perhaps if you would sing Opera and prove to stand above La Carlotta, you would be permitted to stay."

"He wants to fire me?"

Erik glanced away and went to clean up the swords. "It assumes so," he muttered.

Uno stared at the floor in disbelief.

_Just because I don't want to sing Opera I may get fired? What a fuck!_

"Though I will say," he sheathed his sword and leaned it against the wall. "If you _do_ sing Opera, you will prove to be a far beautiful voice than even you, yourself, will know." He passed by her to pick up the other sheath and sheathed the second rapier. After returning the sword to the wall, he turned back to the backup diva. "What do you say?"

She sighed. "I have no choice," Uno murmured and she missed the flash of victory as it crossed over his eyes. "I don't want to get fired."

Erik grinned. "I will find you tomorrow evening on the roof?"

Uno nodded. "Yes."

"Good." She bowed her head in shame. "Now if you may, I would like to clean up my mess and repair the two mirrors you have broken."

Uno nodded and returned to the portal. "Tomorrow night it is, then."

She would have gotten lost returning to her room since the tunnel she took ended at the pool, but there was another passage way that she had found that brought her directly back to the main secret hallway where she had begun. When Uno was back in her room she immediately went to change out of her futuristic clothing and into the painful garnets of _modern_ day.

-

By late that night Uno was prepared to battle sleep. She was doomed to sing and now threatened to learn Opera. It never once crossed her mind that she would be able to let her guard down to the point where she would be trapped into accepting _two_ challenges without another way out.

She fucked herself up twice now and the third time would be the final cut.

She stared at the ceiling and growled. Her mirror was still broken and only covered by one of the fabrics that were hidden beneath her bed—and somehow it hasn't fallen yet with such a shitty frame to grasp hold of it. She had fallen into the trap of learning Opera, a task she doesn't want to do when she doesn't even want to _sing_. And now she was caught by Erik, one of the Opera Populaire's patrons, wearing her futuristic clothing.

What would happen if he passes this news on?

She shut her eyes and groaned.

_Maybe this time you'll learn your lesson._

"Shut up, Zero."

_Or perhaps fall into the trap again, just like Duo._

"Shut up, Zero."

_Either way, you've brought this on to yourself._

Uno sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Shut up," she whispered.

That night when Uno slept, Zero showed Uno just how alike she really is to her father, despite her past beliefs.

---

Duo Maxwell, the most lovable six-year-old that humanity will ever know, ducked besides a destroyed wall of an abandoned building with a bundle of apples in his arms. His long brown hair was raggedy and knotted, hanging behind his back down to his thighs. His wide, violet-blue eyes sparkled in glee as he managed to dodge another store owner's attempt at catching him. His Cheshire-cat grin gleamed. When he felt the vender wasn't looking in his direction, Duo dove back into the street and made a run back to his gang's hideout.

"Hey!" Screamed the vender. "Get back here you rotten kid!"

Duo giggled and glanced over his shoulder to see the vender chasing after him; however, after running a few blocks, the man simply stopped and turned back to his forgotten crate of apples and other fruits.

"Hah! Why don't you go charge the federal army?" Duo mocked back. He didn't realize that as he turned a corner he bumped into man dressed entirely in black. Duo bounced off the man and fell backwards onto his bottom.

"Ouch," he muttered out. Duo winced as slight pain traveled up his rear, through his spine, and into the back of his neck. He raised his head to see the man—who appeared to be quite old—kneeling over to glance closely at him.

"I'm very sorry," the man said, his voice a bit gruff. Duo stared up at him innocently but felt his heart leap into his throat when he heard the federal army soldiers catching up to him.

"You! Come back here!"

Duo returned to the old man and smiled. "Oops, sorry man!" He leapt to his feet, grabbed his stolen apples, and continued running. The man turned and watched the young boy flee while the soldiers arrived by his side.

"Damnit! They've done it again," one of the soldiers complained.

"I do pity those orphans but they steal stuff all the time," the older man muttered, still watching as the child vanished.

As soon as Duo returned to his hide out, his gang was practically starving. Two of them were sitting on an old beat-up couch, three on a shriveling rug, and four on a broken dinner table. The building they hide out within was an abandonded warehouse, left alone once the Federation started the war on the Colony of L2. Part of it was missing but the main structure still stood. Since the gang started they have decided to hide within the confinement of the old warehouse, knowing that if they were found they would be killed.

Orphans are a nuisance to the Federation Government.

Duo handed each member of his gang an apple then kept the last one for himself. He sat down on the rug with the other three and started to eat the tiny fruit, his own stomach grumbling and growling at him.

"Pulled off another one, eh Duo?" Jake said, grinning over his already half-eaten apple.

"Yup," Duo replied with glee. "And tomorrow I'm going to sneak into the Army warehouse."

"What!" Everyone shouted. Duo continued to finish off his apple, ignoring the remarks everyone made regarding his plan.

"That's an aweful idea!" Doug complained.

"If they catch you—you'll be dead!" Brandon added in.

Duo glared each member of his gang and swallowed the final bite of his apple. "We're lucky we're still alive, anyways. Why not do what we can?"

The next day, when Duo was sneaking into the warehouse, he unfortunately was spotted. Immediately, gun fire rang out and Duo found his gang was right: it was too risky to steal for some food. He instead turned around and proceeded to escape as bullets swarmed all around him and flew right past his head.

"Why'd they have to start shooting right away?" Duo growled, holding his ears as he picked up his pace. His hair wavered in the back as he spotted a hiding spot not far from where he was. "The army doesn't care anymore even if they shoot women and kids!" When he turned the corner he bumped into several other soldiers.

Duo felt his face drain of color as a rifle was aimed right at his nose.

"Go away! I haven't done anything—what _did_ I do, anyways?" Duo raced out.

"Don't tell me you haven't done anything," the soldier growled. "You stole from the army, you idiot!"

"Damn," Duo murmured, realizing he was truly caught. "Well," he began, finding another route to his problems, "I live here too! After they destroyed this place—what do you expect me to do?" He was certain to keep his gang a secret, in order to protect his family.

"The Maxwell Church has agreed to take you—and your gang—in," the soldier snarled. "Be thankful."

Duo was indeed thankful. The man knew of his gang and didn't mention killing them.

Just him.

"The… the church?" Duo gazed up at the soldier in shock.

After several weeks as a child under the name of Maxwell, each member of his gang was adopted by other families yet Duo was left behind. He didn't appreciate the fact of being left behind but Sister Helen and Father Maxwell decided to raise him into a great man, much the same as Father Maxwell, himself. As soon as the other children left Duo alone at the church, Sister Helen had decided on starting Duo's training in the art of God. She had him dress as Father Maxwell—complete with the full black garb and white collar—and had told Duo to sit down in a chair so she may dress his hair.

But Duo knew what was going on even before she managed to lift of a pair of scissors.

"Quit it!" Sister Helen ordered. "I'm telling you to stop!"

Father Maxwell heard the shouts from down the hall and decided to find out what the problem was. When he entered the bathroom he found Sister Helen with her arm wrapped around Duo's chest from behind and an angry boy trying to break away. There were scissors in her hands and on the boy's face, aggression.

"What's wrong?" Father Maxwell asked.

Sister Helen looked over with concern in her eyes but Duo continued to growl and glare up at her. "This child… doesn't want to have his hair cut."

"Ya' got that right!" Duo yelled back. He finally managed to break away and immediately lept off the chair. "I can't stand to wear these weird clothes and I sure as heck not gonna put up with having my hair cut!"

Sister Helen knelt down to him. "But it's all messed up… and dirty," she tried again.

"It's fine!" Duo screamed back, his fists balling at his sides.

"Sister Helen," Father Maxwell said, "do as Duo says."

"But…" She bowed her head and accepted defeat in the topic. Duo sat back down, reluctantly, and waited impatiently as Sister Helen braided his hair. After she tied the end, she stood back up and smiled down at him. "Alright. I'm finished." Duo stood up and spun around while giggling as the braid flipped back into his face and hung behind his head like a snake. "You don't have a problem with _that_ now, do you?"

"This is awesome!" Duo cheered on. "Now I can steal anything an' it won't get in my way!"

"Are you still carrying on like that?" She sighed. "As long as you stay with us, you do not have to steal, Duo."

"Oh right," Duo paused and frowned up at his new 'parents'. "I'm not a thief anymore. Now I'm a beggar."

"A beggar?" Father Maxwell muttered in question.

"Well…" Duo stretched his arms, "the church get's money from people's donations, right?"

Sister Helen frowned down at the boy. "This… child…"

"I suppose that's right," Father Maxwell smiled.

"Yup!" Duo narrowed his eyes and dropped his arms. "Don't pretend!"

As time moved on, Duo had to be sent to school like the rest of the children, but unlike the rest of the children he never made friends. Sister Helen and Father Maxwell watched him walk off to the school with the rest of the kids his age, watching as Duo kept his hands locked behind his back and his head hanging low. As the other students greeted each other, Duo stayed quiet.

"Is… he going to be alright?" Sister Helen asked, feeling dread wash over her for Duo's sake.

Father Maxwell only grinned. "With proper education, he could be the best priest this world has ever seen."

"But Duo?" She faced him with a worried expression. "All the other children were adopted by families but they kept sending Duo back to us."

"He was like me," Father Maxwell turned to return to the church, "when I was his age."

It was later that, when Duo came home, Sister Helen had gotten the news about Duo's second week of school with his new classmates…

And old gang friends.

"_Wait Duo!_" She screamed out, trying to grapple Duo before he escaped to hide somewhere in the church. "You did it again, didn't you?"

Duo tried to shake his wrists free from her hands but his struggles were in vain. "It wasn't my fault! They started it!" He finally broke free and Sister Helen had to raise her voice to get him to listen.

"Duo," she shouted, "you put those children in the hospital! How can you say _they_ were the ones who did wrong?"

Duo turned around and stared up at her, his eyes beginning to water. "Yeah but…"

"Duo…" Sister Helen knelt to his level and grasped his arms gently. "What did they say to you?"

Duo hung his head as a tear fell. His fists were balling by his sides and shaking in his anger. He sniffled back what felt like another few tears.

"That I smelled dirty," he whispered.

Then Sister Helen did something Duo never had happen to him before.

She hugged him.

His eyes widened in shock as his mouth gaped open. "What?"

"You don't smell dirty at all," she mumbled out before pulling back.

"Really?"

She smiled and wiped his tears. "Really. So the next time they say things, just ignore them."

"… Okay."

Afterwards, Father Maxwell decided to sit down and have a talk with Duo. He sat him on his lap while Sister Helen claimed a chair close by. Since the hug, Duo's mood was enlightened once again.

"You say there's no God?" Father Maxwell spat out in alarm.

"Yeah," Duo returned. "If there really is a God, he should stop the war." Sister Helen stared at Father Maxwell in concern. "If the war didn't exist, then there wouldn't be orphans like me."

"Duo…" Father Maxwell returned to the small boy on his lap. "God doesn't start wars… people do. People have to end what they start."

"Hmm…" Duo frowned. "So it doesn't matter whether there is a God or not, huh?"

"That's not true!" Sister Helen spat out.

"I think the only God in this world is Shinigami," Duo muttered. Sister Helen gaped at Father Maxwell.

"Sh-Shinigami?" She returned to Duo. "Duo… you don't believe in God but you believe in Shinigami—the God of death?"

"Yeah!" Duo shouted back in glee. "Because I never saw a miracle but I've seen lots and lots of dead people!"

"Hah! It's hard to argue with you," Father Maxwell chuckled out, knowing Duo would eventually grow out of his beliefs if he was shown the correct path.

Sister Helen glanced away in deep thought. "You're quite an interesting child."

Since the day Duo came to live at the Maxwell Church, the building was always filled with laughter.

But… one day…

The laughter stopped.

The Maxwell Church was used as a safe haven for the soldiers. The injured would take shelter inside the church and Duo did all he could to assist Sister Helen and Father Maxwell in aiding the remaining soldiers. Duo kept his ears opened and listened to the discussions as the men talked about their plans. Even though he was protected in the house of God, he knew the war was still going on.

"We have to destroy the Federations G2 base!" A general roared out at his remaining soldiers. "It's the only thing left for us to do."

"Yes Sir!"

Duo frowned. _It's going to start all over again. We've been living happily here… until now._

"All we need is one mobile suit," the general murmured.

Since the wars begun, mobile suits were the key ingredient to the combat out on the battlefield. A mobile suit was a humonguous machine a soldier would pilot, much like a fighter plane only it was in the shape of a man—albeit, buffed man. The size of the machine was so huge, a full grown adult could stand besides one and the top of their head would barely even reach the top of the toe part of the foot.

These machines were primearily used for the space fights but since mankind found it easier to win over their enemies with bigger, badder weapons, they were upgraded to become even more powerful than before.

"If we could just get one then our freedom would be assured," the general carried on.

Father Maxwell stepped up to the alter where the general stood, addressing his remaining men. "Isn't it enough?"

"What?" The general spat out in shock.

"I Heero Yuy, our assassinated pacifist, said it before," Father Maxwell reminded, "We colonists did not come into space to fight. Whatever happens—we should _not_ fight."

"You!" The general shot an accusing finger in the priest's direction. "Say that again!"

"And I shall say it as often as possible," Father Maxwell returned just as equally, standing his ground firmly. "We _mustn't _fight!"

"Why you…" several soldiers began growling, fed up with the pacifist talk.

Suddenly, a soldier shot out of no where and punched Father Maxwell square in the jaw. "Shut up!" He snarled.

Duo, unfortunately, saw it happen. "Bastard!"

Sister Helen ran into the fight and blocked the men from getting any closer to the priest. She held out her arms and growled.

"Please stop!" She pleaded. "Don't hurt him anymore!"

"Shut up!" The same soldier slapped her across the face. Sister Helen lost her footing and fell to the floor besides the priest, her lip beginning to bleed from a fresh wound. "All of us must be united! Why should you preach at a time like this and stir up confusion?"

A few other soldiers began circling around Sister Helen. "They could be Federation spies," one mumbled out. She felt her heart leap into her throat as the looks on their faces read many a dark and sinister thought. "It's possible… isn't it?"

"No…" she breathed out, clutching her chest in fear. "No!"

"Shall I make them confess?" A soldier turned to the general.

"_Wait!_" All faces turned to see a small boy dress the same way as a priest but with long brown hair tied back into a braid standing in the doorway to the room.

"What the hell?" A soldier murmured.

"One mobile suit is good enough, right?" Duo questioned.

The general gazed at the kid in shock. "What?"

"I'll steal one for you," Duo decided. "In exchange for that, you guys are out of here!" His voice rose to a yell. "This place is for peace!"

The general snorted. "The kid's nonsense," he scoffed out.

Duo's eyes narrowed and his fists balled at his sides, accepting the challenge. "I run, I hide, but I _never_ lie—like _you_ guys do!"

"What?" The general spat out in shock.

"Duo!" Sister Helen covered her mouth in fear of the young boy's life. "Stop!"

But Duo had already turned to go. He peered over his shoulder and called back. "I'll get a mobile suit—and bring it here for you!"

Sister Hele extended her arm and screamed. "_Duo!_"

Duo ran as fast as he could, through the miles and miles of endless debris and abandonded buildings.

"Damn it, damn it, _damn it_!" He screamed as he turned a corner and picked up his pace. "_Why?_" He reached a wire fence and began climbing over it. "Just a little while ago—everyone hated war! Why does it have to start again?" He leapt off the top and started running again.

When he reached the base where he decided to steal a mobile suit his little form was spotted and the alarms went off.

"_Intruder!_" Duo heard shouted from across the base.

"I sure hate the Federation Army but… but..." Duo ducked behind a truck as gunfir began shooting out all around him.

"Stop!" A soldier screamed out. "Stop or we'll shoot!"

"If they want war so much, why don't the people who enjoy it fight each other?" He mumbled to himself. "And leave _us_ alone?" He kicked off the ground and began running again. "All you do is make orphans like me!"

The gunfire ceased suddenly and two soldiers noticed who their intruder was. "Stop," one said, "He's just a kid."

"It doesn't matter," the other argued back. "We're to kill _all_ the colonists!"

Duo skidded to a halt when he came up to a large truck that held a wrapped machine on the bed of it. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open as he stared up at the large, 'sleeping' machine, in a daze/

"That's it!" He spat.

Duo started running towards it and ignored all the soldiers he passed by. As he began climbing up into the cab of the truck one of the soldiers ran up to him with his gun in the ready.

"Who are you!" The man raised the gun to fire when needed.

Duo pulled the door shut and found an extra spare key stuck between the visor and the ceiling of the cab. He started the car, thankful for his skillful knowledge, and started pressing the gas. Gunfire started back up and bullets tore through the doors of the truck but Duo managed to get out of the base untouched by the spray of ammo.

"It's just by chance that I'm still alive," Duo grumbled. "I might as well be the one to do the dirty jobs!"

He quickened his speed and rushed back to the Maxwell Church. However, when he arrived…

"It can't…" Duo's face drained of color, his eyes became glazed over, and his mouth parted. His limbs started to feel so numb he was certain his legs would let out. "It can't be."

Duo stood in the ruins of the Maxwell Church, the building torn from the roof to the ground. The soldiers were gone, the walls crumbled, and the sky shining down to the alter where a large, stained glass window once sparkled upon.

He felt the tears fall but he didn't register even crying.

"D-Duo," came Sister Helens faint, crackling voice from somewhere not far off. Duo turned and ran towards the voice, soon finding her veil removed from her head and her long blonde hair cascading out around the rocks beneath her. Hero frail body lay forgotten in the ruins, torn apart from constant abuse and rape, and her face bruised from severe beatings.

"I'm so glad…" she began but her weakened state didn't let her finished. "You're alright, aren't you?"

"Sister!" Duo rushed to her side and took her hand into both of his.

"Don't worry us like that," she lectured him, still the mothering image she always was to him. "The father was thinking of you until his very last moment."

"I-I'll call a doctor right away!" Duo rushed out in a panic, not even realizing that there were no doctors left alive on the colony.

There weren't even enough civilians left to begin _another_ colony!

"The Federation Army has come," Sister Helen murmured, "We can't leave here."

"Is… is it my fault?" Duo sobbed out, panic flowing through his veins for what he may have caused to happen from stealing a mobile suit. "Because I stole a mobile suit from the Federation?"

"The father… was a wonderful… example," she continued, ignoring his questions for she knew she didn't have much longer. "He preached peace… to everyone until the end."

"What do you mean wonderful?" Duo snapped back. "He was just stupid, wasn't he? What did he accomplish by getting himself killed?"

Sister Helen smiled, watching as Duo's face began fading from her eyesight. "Duo," she whispered, her other hand raising to graze the right side of his cheek for one final touch. "May God… bless you… and…"

"Sister?" Duo cried, his eyes glazed over once again.

Her voice died and she breathed out, "Keep… you."

Her hand fell away from his face and that was the first time Duo ever stared death in the eyes without running.

He threw his head back and screamed out his anguish. Tears filled his eyes to the brim and poured out, trailing down his cheeks like waterfalls of a dangerously flowing river. He grabbed hold of Sister Helen's head and held it to his chest as he began rocking himself.

The death toll was two-hundred and fourty-five people. The rebellion of the colony was put down by the Federation and Oz Special Forces. The event became known as the "Maxwell Church Tradgedy."

---

Uno slowly opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, feeling her eyes slowly moisten with tears. In one fatal blink, a dozen tears fell and cascaded down her cheek.

"Why?" She breathed out.

_Because you still don't believe you are Duo's daughter,_ Zero answered.

"Yes I do," She whispered back. "I was a street rat just like him only I didn't have any friends and I lived in a cardboard box for a year and a half. I stole apples to eat but I got caught. I found Duo the same way he found the priest and Duo later adopted me." Uno gasped as if a revelation came clear. "I was orphaned from war and adopted the Maxwell name and braid just like he did from the church."

_Congratulations. You finally know the truth._

Uno closed her eyes and covered her face in her hands. "Go away," she sobbed. "Please." She sniffled back another tear. "I just want to be normal."

_A wish impossible to happen, _Zero reminded her. _Sweet dreams, Uno._

Uno cried herself back to sleep but again, only nightmares roamed her nocturnal visions.

* * *

**Okay... long chapter. Please review! I mean, come on! Ya' read this long... review! And I know the dream part of Duo was written like a child's book... I can't help it. I think I should write at midnight more often.**

**(shrugs then giggles) hehe**

**Please tell me what you think of the WHOLE chapter and not JUST certain parts or JUST the ending! Please the WHOLE thing! (weak smile) I'll give you all free masks of Eriks, stolen right out of his lair!**

**(Erik: wtf! Return those at once!)  
(Kitty: Run!)**

**ALSO! If you wanna hear the song Uno plays for Erik on the organ, go to the main Duo's Child website (link located on my fanfic bio) and go to extras. It's titled Tacotta! It's the ORIGINAL Phantom of the Music song!**

**The song Uno sings in here is created by Déantaand is called 'The MaidThat Sold Her Barely' from the album:'Ready For The Storm'.**


	24. Pirating The Gypsies

_**Merry Christmas!  
**_My gift to you all is this update! (giggles)

**I know you all have been wondering when I would update next. Let me just tell you now that I have been through MAJOR stress these past several months and half of that reason is because I HAVEN'T been able to write... _anything_! I've been cutting again, this time sacrificing my blood in return for prayer help. My mother has me on Anti-Anxiety pills so I may stop. She will be finding me a psychologists to help, as well.**

**The next chapter will consist of the Prime Ball (again, it's pushed on) because I feel you all should have another chapter, since I've left you in the dark long enough. At the same time, I'll also have the new 'profile' section up on the main DC website so you can see the profiles and pictures of all these people and what Uno's gowns look like. (Whispers) and Ricky is HOTT!**

**So yes... I have been busy. I had to lose a relationship that I thought I would stay with forever. I had to lose several friendships that I thought would be excellent to keep but their enemies put me in the corner and gave me no choice than to turn on them. I have been stressed over school.**

**I've been greatly stressed a lot.**

**I also plan on writing more stories soon, not just updates, but other new and exciting ones!**

**_Stay Tuned..._**

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-Four - 

Uno glanced around at her surroundings and frowned. She was back in her room, in the mansion on Earth, with her huge weapon puzzle hanging on the wall. The walls were colored a slightly light gray—Quatre never liked straight black walls and didn't mind a slightly silver look instead of white—and the carpet a dark teal. She was staring at her door, which was closed and, according to what her enhanced vision noticed, locked.

Turning to her right, away from the door and huge puzzle, was her bed, still draped in her black cotton sheets—Duo never enjoyed letting her borrow his satin sheets because she always stole them from him stead. Her crimson and scarlet pillows were, as usual, scattered around the head of the bed and a deep violet blanket was draped over the foot.

Her black nightstands, one on each side of the bed, were cleaned of any dust. The stand to her left held her alarm clock and Stealth shaped phone—she envied the people who drove her favorite cars. The stand on her right held her Grim Reaper lamp—which still had the tiny crack in the dark red visor from when she and Theresa had that massive pillow fight several years prior. Sitting before the lamp was her exquisite picture frame with the picture of her and her two best friends, all smiling and having a good time.

Uno felt her insides grumble at the photograph; Ricky and Theresa were such good friends, no body would have assumed to think their friendship would have died so dramatically and so tragetically.

Moving further along the wall were a few miscellaneous wall scrolls she adapted over the years from her visits to other nations and colonies. A gold framed picture of Lord Peacecraft hung just next to one of her large windows, a gift from Relena in hopes of inheriting the Peacecraft nation when she was ready to lead the people. Along the wall to her right—directly across from the wall of the huge puzzle and door—were more elaborately decorated windows and a balcony bay window. Each window was draped in sheer elegance with deep shades of red, expressing the nature of humanity's inner color.

Away from the winows sat her arrangement of various seating and pillows. A handshaped into the bird—the fingers are shaped to the street symbol of 'fuck you'—sat in front of the balcony bay window, dressed in a design making it look like monster fingers. She liked that chair the most, as it was a present from Duo when she turned ten; Quatre was angry with him but Uno loved Duo all the more for it. Just besides that was the door to her large walk-in closet, where a vast arrangement of clothing still hung; most was black.

Along the other wall was another door to her bathroom, where all of her old attempts died as soon as she learnt what her point of existence was.

After that they moved to wherever she turned out to be when she tried slicing again.

Turning around to face her bedroom door again, Uno frowned crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't know why she was back in the room and how she got there. Glancing down at herself, she found she was dressed in her navy blue, velvet dress, the one she normally wore outside of the Opera Populare.

_But then how could I be standing in the mansion if the Opera Populaire was far into the past?_ She berated in silent doubt. _How could I be in the future if I'm living in the past?_

The bathroom door opened suddenly and Uno spun around to see a man with raggedy brown hair, cobalt blue eyes, lips set into a straight line, and a scar firmly set on both sides of his head—on both temples. Her mouth gaped open as he waltz into the room casually, his denim blue jeans hanging off his hips and his white shirt unbutton and hanging open loosely. The strength of his body shown on his abs, his muscle so tensed and so strong looking that one would assume he could crush a coke can with a single situp.

He closed the door behind himself and glanced down at his hands, at what she just noticed was a white washcloth half covered in blood.

"I don't know how many times you plan on cutting but I would greatly appreciate it if you would quit," he said casually. Uno felt taken aback and glanced down at her wrists to see her left one swollen and gashed open, her blood pouring out of her open veins. "It becomes rather annoying after a while, Uno."

Uno raised her head and gaped at him, her breath barely coming to her. "Ricky?" She squeaked out. Ricky cocked his head to the side and regarded her for a brief moment; he looked more man than she last saw of him at the Synodd base.

"Uno—I thought we discussed this," he continued, as if her shock was a normal thing. "The more you cut the more agony you'll go through."

"What's going on, Ricky?" Uno raced out. "Please tell me."

Ricky shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything—how are you still alive, how am I here, back in the future yet still dressed as I was back in Paris, and why are my wrists cut when I don't recall slicing," Uno glanced down at her hands again and to the now-drying blood that once dripped to the carpet. She frowned and noticed there were no blood puddles beneath her but knew that only a second ago her blood was running fast.

He took a deep breath and stared down at the bloody washcloth in his hands. "I'm alive through you," Ricky explained. "You won't ever let me die. You've been dreading leaving the colonies behind and hate the fact that you're still alive, given another chance to live. You won't accept that your place wasn't in the future as you were born and because of that, you're desperately trying to find a way back home—in this case, through your dreams." He stared back up at her.

"And to answer your final question—you must have fainted when you slit your wrists last night."

"Slit my wrists?"

"Not intentionally meaning to faint," Ricky added in as he glanced back down at the cloth. He turned away and stepped up to one of the windows that look over the vast span of trees. "You cut yourself last night for a release, to see if you were really alive or stuck in Limbo."

Uno frowned. "I don't believe in that religious shit," she spat.

He cocked his brows and nodded a little. "Well to each his own, I suppose. Even though science _did_ prove religion wrong, there _are_ still some people who believe in some upper being."

"Ricky—"

Ricky turned back to Uno and sighed. "Why do you dread what you've been given?"

She frowned. "Pardon?"

He chuckled and glanced back at the cloth in his hands briefly. "You've been here for only a few months and already have adapted to your surroundings," he muttered. "But you dread being alive."

"No shit."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to live anymore," she snapped back in return. "Because Duo had lied to me—because he had died in my arms right after I hit him square on the face for trying to run my life after fleeing from you and your assassins!"

"Uno—"

"Because, no matter _how_ much I _try_ and lead a _normal_ life I never can! Because no matter how many times I try and make friends they always turn into enemies! Because no matter how many times I try and _not_ kill, _I do just that!_ Because—"

"_Because you're too weak to know how to survive without bloodshed!_" Ricky roared out. Uno immediately shut up and bit her tongue, not used to hearing her boyfriend raise his voice. "Uno—how many times have I told you in the past to _stop_ being so fucking competitive! Huh? How many times have I told you to stop fighting me on everything and to take a fail for once?"

Uno bowed her head in shame. "I can't help it Ricky—it's who I've been raised by."

"Bullshit," he spat. She snapped her gaze up at him. "And you know it, too. It's not from Duo, or Heero, or even Relena—it's your mother." Uno frowned. "Sarah Cleaver was almost _just_ like Heero, but more competitive and challenging. I would know—I had her as my mother as well, keep in mind."

"Ugh God," Uno turned away and closed her eyes. "Don't remind me." He smirked. "We're a couple and yet we have the same mother."

"Yeah—my given father told you, I assume." Uno nodded but continued to cringe. "I've known all this time and I'm sure Heero's figured it out—but I made sure I let no one find out." Uno turned to him with a frown set deeply on her face. "Yeah… I've always basically known, Uno. But did I care? No. And why is that, you ask? Not only do siblings fuck around before they marry off, but also because I needed to get closer to my target."

Uno frowned more out of pity suddenly. "I know you loved me, Ricky." He turned away suddenly and glared the wall. "Don't deny it."

"Do you see me denying it?" He scoffed out before tapping at his temples. "I shot myself in the head because I fell in love with my target and if I hadn't done the job myself, Synodd would have after forcing me to watch them kill you." Uno lowered her head to the floor. "Uno—I love you baby but you _gotta'_ let me go… _please_."

"I can't," she muttered. "I just wish I had a normal life."

"And now that you're given that normal life—you don't want it," Ricky explained. "You've been given another chance and yet you won't change."

Uno bowed her head. "It's not easy to change just like that."

"No shit," he scoffed. She glanced up at him. "But you haven't even tried. You've challenged Marcella and you killed her. You found a man who's willing to love you and you killed him for his money—knowing only one way to get that money. You're running from what _can_ become of a decent life."

Uno creased her brows and snarled back in return. "Marcella had it coming—I warned her away from what she was doing and she wouldn't stop."

"So you kill her?"

"Get the obstacles out of my way—"

"I know Uno—if you can't fight it, kill it," Ricky explained for her. "I had the same kind of training, don't forget."

"And Richard—he had it coming. He thought I was a whore—"

"Because you were playing as one—"

"And he expected to have a family with me."

Ricky nodded and glanced again. He chewed on his lower lip in thought. "Now right there I'll admit he wouldn't understand futuristic technology of snipping a girls tubes so she can't get pregnant."

Uno nodded. "And if he found my scars—which I'm amazed he didn't see that night—he'd fear me even more." Ricky frowned over at her. "And I'm not running from a decent life."

"Yes you are," he shot back. "Keep this up and you'll turn into Madam Giry—just without Meg as a daughter." Ricky smirked and leaned against the window. "But no, you are right about one thing, you're not going to turn into that old prune. After all, you're a diva now. And according to _Erik_, you're going to have to learn to sing opera."

Uno groaned and turned away from him. By now, the burning sensation of her wrist was starting to get to her, stinging her flesh and making her fingers fidget.

"I don't want to learn opera."

"Why? Afraid of reliving the past?" Uno bowed her head in shame. "Or are you afraid of having everyone hear what a terrific voice you have? Or… maybe it's because with your background, you think you'll make yourself an easier target."

Uno snorted. "My background… it has nothing to do with this."

"Oh of course it does," he retorted. Uno frowned over at him. "Why… what sort of Queen sings opera where _we_ come from?"

"I'm not the queen," Uno muttered softly.

Ricky ignored her protest and carried on. "I mean, being able to sing is one thing but singing a type of song that has died since the birth of the colonies—well, that's just down right unusual. Especially being granted the ability to rule all of humanity—you wouldn't have the time to even sing for yourself as you shower."

"I'm not the queen," she repeated herself.

"But, either way, being queen does have its advantages," Ricky grinned suddenly. "Like getting to kill without getting in trouble about it? Or even becoming a tyrant."

Uno lost it now.

"I'm not the queen!"

"You should be!" Ricky roared back, forcing Uno to reel again. "_You_ were given the rights to the Winner Foundation, which was considered _half_ of the population of humanity! _You_ were given the rights to the throne by Vice Foreign Minister Dorlean herself, which _used_ to be _Queen_ Relena—and _that_ is _well_ over _half_ the population of humanity! _You_ were given the Blassimeer Manor, the mansion that started it _all_! And you gave it all away!"

"_I shouldn't have been given those rights!_" Uno roared back, this time shocking Ricky. Tears stung her eyes and threatened to fall. "I never _wanted_ all this glory! I never _wanted_ to own society and to run it with the flick of a wrist." She choked back a sob as her voice crackled. "Ricky—I never wanted _anything_ but to have a family and be loved by them."

Ricky bit his lower lip and tore his gaze away from the woman before him. "Please Ricky," Uno pleaded, "all I wanted was to be with Duo. That's it."

"You were raised by my enemy—trained to become my enemy, and to fight me," he said, his voice strained to remain quiet. "And yet you could care less about being who you are?" He turned to her in mild shock. "But yet you say you don't want any of this and even if you had not the need to fight Synodd, me and my men, my father—any of us, you still would have become the Perfect Assassin… your precious, _Shinimegami_."

"How?" She sucked in a breath and let her lower lip tremble.

Ricky sighed and glanced down at the rag in his hands. "It's in your blood."

"Duo…" He shook his head. "No?"

"Duo isn't the one who gave you the ability to fight like a machine," Ricky explained. "He just gave you the ability to survive."

"You mean our mother?" Uno paused. "Sarah Cleaver is the woman who gave me the ability—gave _us_ the ability to fight like a machine?"

Ricky closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "You're not yet ready to hear the truth, Uno. Just," he opened his eyes and glanced at her with pity laced behind his cobalt blue orbs, "go get ready for the Prime Ball, dressed as Queen Uno—or as you tell everyone, Empress… and… please be safe." Uno stifled a weak smile. "I do love you."

Another tear fell from the corner of her eye. "And I you, Ricky."

---

Uno's eyes opened with dried tears at the corners. She forced herself up and found she was lying on the ground besides her bed. Her wrist ached and as she looked down, she found dried blood on her skin.

Licking it off only proved to show it was there for no reason.

The wound had already become an aged old scar.

She sighed and pushed up. Apparently her knife was pushed away because she couldn't locate it. But either way, Uno finished licking the dried blood off her wrist and proceeded to change clothes.

She had a long day ahead of herself, rehearsing her lines and preparing for the gala.

-

"Uno—you must open your door!" Charline tapped constantly on Uno's door until the braided—and very much annoyed—diva opened it. Charline paused when she saw Uno staring at her with a nonchalant expression.

"Uno?"

"What do you want, Charline?" Uno grumbled. "I'm quite busy rehearsing my lines."

Charline bowed her head in slight shame. "I don't mean to intrude but the gala isn't until tomorrow and I was wondering if you would like to go with Meg and I to the fair today."

Uno frowned. "Fair?"

"The Gypsy Fair," Charline explained. "They are performing shows and there are games to play."

Uno sighed. "When? It's noon right now."

"Well… Meg has a few things Madam Giry wishes her to do then the rest of the ballet plan to go together. I would like for you to join us around later this afternoon. I have heard good things about their fairs."

Uno leant on the door and furrowed her brows. "What shows they got to offer? I don't get out much—so I don't find many things amazing."

Charline paused, puzzled. "I would think you would find them truly amazing if you rarely get out." She shrugged her shoulders. "Am I right?"

"I get around."

"So… will you come?" Charline pressed on. "_Please_ say you will!"

Uno closed her eyes and groaned out, "Fine. Let me get ready."

"Terriffic! I'll be back shortly." She turned and ran off, leaving Uno to stare after her. Uno closed the door and turned around. The drapery she picked up from Madam Wilma's earlier that morning hung over the broken mirror, reminding Uno like a plague that there was no way to escape later tonight.

She would have to learn opera.

-

Uno sighed as she followed behind her two friends. Charline had managed to get Uno out of the theater and now Meg is content on getting her to join them for the side shows and games. So far, Uno has seen only a few things that have been of any interest to her.

"Come on, Uno," Meg whined, "there has to be _something_ that you would enjoy seeing here."

"How about him?" Charline pointed to their side where an acrobat was bending all the way backwards into a ball. "Have you ever seen a man who can bend in such a way?"

Uno glanced at the man and frowned. "I've seen better."

"Of course not!" Meg gasped. "Not many men can do such a thing!"

Uno glanced at her nonchalantly. "One of my father's could," she explained. "Trowa was quite flexible and very well balanced. I'm sure he could top every move these… Gypsies… pull."

"Well," Charline breathed out before turning to take a look around. "How about that side show, over there?" Uno and Meg glanced over to a large tent that showed a sign. "Knife throwing—ohh it sounds like fun."

Uno groaned softly. "Must we?"

"Come on, Uno," Meg beamed. "You stay inside too much; it's not healthy."

She sighed and let her friends drag her away.

-

Erik kept his head down while he made his way through the dark corners of the Gypsie Parade. He knew who these people were and he knew what they wanted. Gypsies moved as often as possible but they traveled in packs searching for something.

He just didn't know what they wanted this time.

He paused outside a small off-white tent and noticed the three ballet rats from the theater that happen to always be around when trouble lurks in the shadows. His eyes narrowed as he watched them closely, staring at the times of the next act the Gypsies will perform the knife throwing.

Suddenly, a roar of laughter started up towards his right and turning around slowly, he saw a deep crimson tent, lined with people waiting to get in and probably several more inside. His brows creased in union as he contemplated what was hidden behind the tent doors. The sounds of the three girls neared him and Erik, knowing not to get caught, ducked backwards into another shadow to watch.

-

"So it starts in about in hour," Charline said, "we'll return then."

"Oh it must be wonderful," Meg proclaimed. She turned to smile widely at Uno.

Uno on the other hand merely rolled her eyes. "I doubt they're any good."

Meg gasped. "Nonsense! They are Gypsies—of _course_ they're good!"

Charline turned to her as well. "Uno, please learn to appreciate more than what you allow yourself to see." Uno frowned towards her friend. "Sometimes, the greater pleasures in life are less than what we would assume."

Meg stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed hold of both girl's arms. "Look!" Uno glanced up to a crimson tent. "It's another show."

"I wonder what it'll display," Charline said dreamily.

Uno's eyes narrowed as she read the sign hanging above the door. It was painted on a black board with the text decorated as flames.

"Hell Spawn," Uno muttered softly. Meg tugged on her arm and smiled with glee. "Come—we _must_ see what's inside!"

"Yes!" Charline chased after Meg, leaving Uno to contemplate it's true meaning.

"Hell Spawn…?" She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

As soon as she entered the tent, which thankfully wasn't a long wait considering the line of people outside moved rather rapidle, she found a huddle of people crowded around some large cage in the center. Meg and Charline glanced around with smiles on their faces while they wondered what was to be seen. A large man, dressed equally in crimson with an oily black beard, hair, and green beady eyes, stepped up to them.

"Welcome," he roared out with a loud growl. "Welcome to the Hell Spawn!"

Uno frowned over at him and ignored as he spoke to the other two rats. Soon, the crowed dispersed and Meg and Charline stepped up to the cage to see what was inside. Meg wrapped her fingers around the bars and Uno watched as her smile faded. Charline wrapped her fingers around the bars as well but only sighed.

"That's terrible," Charline breathed out.

"He's so pitiful," Meg whispered.

Uno stepped up to the cage and frowned. Her mouth gaped open and she, too, wrapped her fingers around the bars.

"Oh my God," she murmured.

Inside the cage sat a small boy, no larger than nine and definitely not any younger than five. His hair was hardly even there but what she could make of it, it appeared to be black. From what she could see—since he was sitting with his back to them—he was wearing only a measily loincloth around his waist. From his back side he looked very thin, as his spinal cord poked out of his back, his sides were sucked in beneath his ribs, and his arms were as frail looking as a skeleton.

"Turn around Hell Spawn or I will beat you some more!" Shouted the Gyspy. Uno turned to face the Gyspy man and glared, hating how people abused one another for reasons unknown.

The boy turned slowly around and when Meg and Charline gasped, Uno returned to face him and see what had shocked them both.

Apparently his entire figure had.

From his face, appearing entirely like a skull with recessed eyes the shade of black to his frail and thin body, he looked to much like a skeleton.

"Look at him," the man began, "what boy could ever grow into a man looking like that? What man would ever make a living with a face and body like that. No hair, no strength—all he is, is skin and bones."

"How sad," Meg breathed out.

"That's so horrible," Charline muttered.

Uno's mouth only gaped at the boy. She stared into his black eyes and read into his mind; he was more than just a child with a tortured heart.

He was a child sold for money.

"Why-why do you display him?" She stuttered out. The man only laughed and turned away from the girls.

"He's a hideous creature! Why—just look at him and see for yourself," the man explained. "He makes for a good show and makes me a lot of money. You cannot tell me he is the most frightening thing you have ever seen."

Uno narrowed her eyes and turned to face the man. "As a matter of fact, I can," she countered. Meg and Charline turned from the cage and watched the argument. "Being born in a frail body is one thing, but becoming frail over time is something far greater. Having ones face torn to shreds by rabid dogs is just as frightening as watching somebody strap a jar of poisonous bug to another individual's mouth in a way of torture, to watch those bugs slowly make their way into the victim's body and such."

Meg cringed and hid her face into Charline's arm. "Uno please—you're beginning to frighten me."

Charline only gaped at Uno in shock.

"Having a bullet tear through somebody's right eye at rapid pace and causing their skul to split in half and splatter blood all across your surroundings—_including_ yourself—is a frightening scene." Uno shot an accusing finger towards the little boy in the cage. "But seeing a boy that has starved practically to _death_ is _not_ a frightening scene! There are _millions_ out there _just_ like him because they are too poor to feed themselves."

The man narrowed his eyes. "You three will pay triple the amount and leave immediately," he growled. "And I shall never see your face again, _wrench_, or I will show you off as a free whore to my paying customers."

Meg and Charline both gasped and turned to Uno. Uno, on the other hand, merely narrowed her eyed and grinned. "Be my guest—I'll kill each of your customers with razor blades shoved up my cunt that they will die of blood loss even before you find them in pain."

"Uno," Charline snapped out in a choked breath, "stop this at once!"

Meg turned to the man with fear laced in her eyes. "I am sorry, Sir. Here is our money."

Charline and Meg paid then fled quickly. Uno kept staring at the man and narrowed her eyes. "I'll be back to give you five times the amount you need for your services."

"Five?" He paused, "Though I asked you for three?"

She shrugged and grinned off to the side. "Call it a fair deal. Where I come from, there's only one way to pay the price."

He nodded. "I will be waiting."

Uno turned and finished off her statement silently. _A fair deal that pays the price in blood, rather than cash or franc notes._

When she stepped back outside Meg and Charline were waiting for her. The looks on both their faces told her that they were not pleased. Uno merely put up her cold façade and passed them up.

"So I won another battle," she muttered. "Why so stunned?"

"You didn't _win_ that battle," Charline shot back. "You cost us to pay double the fee."

Uno shrugged. "I'll get you your money back before we leave."

Meg paused. "How… do you plan on doing that?"

Uno turned to send a devilsh smile at her friends. "That's my little secret—just don't you two worry about it." The two of them continued staring at Uno in disbelief before turning away. Uno straightened her back and crossed her arms over her chest. "So shall we go see the show?"

Meg bit her lower lip and turned to Charline. Charline, on the other hand, arched her shoulders back and raised her chin. "Yes… let's go see the show."

Uno narrowed her eyes and grinned. She watched as the two of them passed by her and followed them with her eyes. _I congratulate you, Charline,_ Uno said silently, _for you know how to challenge even the most poisonious of all snakes._

Inside the other tent the crowd was rather large. There were lots of empty seating but they were filling up quite fast. Meg and Charline quickly claimed a chair and Uno took the next open one besides them. The center of the stage made Uno remember a time when she was once on stage for a much similar reason. She frowned when she saw the same decorated props.

Uno noticed the center board and how it was painting red; however, there were some darker splotches scattered around, as if they have painted over the blood of a failed throw in attempt to cover it up. Uno's stomach grumbled and her head began to throb.

_Oh God,_ she said with silent fear, _oh God—oh God—oh God it's just the same._

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her arms wrapped themselves across her belly, trying to tell it to settle down.

But the time of a distant place reached her brain and only wracked her conscious more.

---

The tent was massive and the audience was enormous. There were thousands of different faces, each lined with the same enthuasitic smile awaiting a show of talent. The props were colord with rich, vibrant shades while the center of the place sparkled with what was soon to come.

Uno smiled and looked around at all the smiling faces, her smile also as wide as theirs. Duo sat to her left, glancing around and having a mild chit-chat with Quatre, who sat in front of him. Behind her sat Wufei and Heero; they only came because Duo said there was something dealing with the show.

She never knew it was the start of her training from Trowa.

Soon, the arena darkened and the spotlight shined down on Catherine Bloom, Trowa's circus sister. She was dressed in in her circus dress with shades of pink and red and had her orange-brown hair tumbling down her shoulders. There were two stars on one side of her hair, pinning her locks back to keep them out of her face. She raised the mic to her mouth and smiling wide.

"Tonight," she started, "for our knife throwing act we are going to do something different! Our Silent Clown will not be our star attraction on the target board!" She paused to allow a few boo's to settle down. "Instead of our Silent Clown, I would like to choose one person from the audience, to fill in the spot!"

With a grin as wide as a Chesire Cat's smile, Duo bent over to whisper into Uno's ear. "Don't you think it'll be scary to be chosen and have knives thrown at you?" Uno's eyes widened in slight fear as her heart began to pound. She balled her fists to keep them from weaking and she felt her palms moisten in her fear.

"You!" Catherine shouted into the mic, finger pointed in Uno's general direction. The spotlight moved to cover her and bathe her in brightness. Uno's eyes widened in complete fear.

"The girl in black with the braid!" All faces turned to Uno. "I choose you!"

Uno grabbed Duo's arm tightly, squeezing it with her little fingers. She stared up at him with silent pleading eyes, practically filling with tears. Fear glazed over her violet orbs and begged him to stand up for her.

But sadistically enough, Duo only grinned in return and shook his head.

"No Uno," he slid his arm out of her fingers. "First day of training with Trowa."

Her mouth dropped in complete terror. "But," she whispered.

"Go on," he stood her up and gave her a little push out of the seating. "And don't screw up."

Quatre leaned backwards and smiled up at her with reassuring eyes. "Good luck sweetie," he whispered. "And don't worry, Trowa will be with you."

Uno only made it down the few steps and stood firmly on the ground when she reached the side of the stage. Catherine came up to her and helped her towards the board, all while talking on the mic and 'finding out her name'.

Naturally, they had this all planned out before hand and she already knew who Uno was.

Trowa, the Silent Clown, stepped in front of Uno and began strapping her to the board. He noticed the fear on her face and nodded in understanding at it.

"It's alright, Little One," he muttered softly to her. Uno frowned and swallowed back in slight fear. "I'll be right here the entire time." Uno didn't take her eyes off his. "Remember, don't move, don't show any fear, and never take your mind off the topic. Taking your eyes off your enemy may very well mean your death."

"Is she ready?" Catherine asked, already standing in place several yards away. Trowa nodded and stepped to the side. Uno stared into the eyes of Catherine, preparing to be scared out of her pants. "Alright now, Uno," Catherine prepared her stance and raised a hand with three knives protruding from her fingers, "stay real still and this will end very fast."

The first knife was thrown and missed Uno's left temple by an inch. Uno's inhaled a deep breath as her eyes widened in pure fear. As the second knife landed just besides the left side of her neck, Uno's mind began to contemplate what Trowa had said.

_It's twue_, she realized silently, _I won't get huwt if I don't move. And Duo wouldn't let anything happen to me and I live with Twowa. What do I have to feaw about this—besides dying?_

Uno never realized her mind had drifted off, just as Trowa had said not to do. She was surrounded by blades all over her body but didn't even notice it. Her eyes became glazed over, her mouth a straight line, and her thoughts were entirely on another topic.

She didn't realize that she had drifed away until she saw the shiny spark of a blades tip only seconds from her face.

Uno's eyes blinked a quick second when she noticed the final knife leave Catherine's fingers in a funny way and fly directly at the center of her head. Trowa would have caught the blade if he had noticed it sooner and were fast enough to stop it, but human speed against a speeding blade was not a true challenge. Without a second to spare and a knife only seconds away from stabbing her in the face, Uno's head felt suddenly head and she allowed it to fall forward. The audience gasped and many had leapt to their feet in fear. From the corner of her eye, Duo had jumped up and grabbed hold of Quatre's shoulders; Quatre looked as if he were about to faint. Heero and Wufei shot to their feet, as well, and were ready to attack Catherine.

Trowa was the only one staring at Uno in complete shock.

Instead of letting the blade strike her, Uno had dropped her head and let it dangle, her braid tumbling over her shoulder along with it. The knife, on the other hand, had pierced the board deeply, right where the tip of her nose would have been. Catherine had covered her mouth with her fear, fearing if she had harmed the little girl.

"Uno!" Trowa was in front of Uno in less than heartbeat, ripping the knives out of the board and dropping them onto the floor, starting with the head shot. "Uno?"

"I dwifted Twowa," she muttered. He frowned then merely gasped when she raised her head and displayed her devilish grin.

"Are you alright?"

"But I saw the shiny knife and ducked."

Trowa froze. "D-ducked?"

She frowned. "Was that wong?"

Later, after the show had ended, Duo was constantly hugging Uno that Quatre had to buy her some cotton candy to get her away from him, in fear that he may strain the poor child to death. She sat on Heero's knee as she pet the lion behind the bars and Duo stepped up to Trowa. Trowa removed his half-mask and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"Trowa!" Duo snapped. "Tell your stinken sister to learn how to throw properly! If Uno hadn't of ducked, I'd be in jail right now for killin' that prick!" Duo ripped the other bag of cotton candy out of Quatre's hands—Quatre bought him one to help calm him down as well—and growled angrily. He manically began tearing the bag open.

"I told her she was lucky," Trowa muttered, wrapping an arm around Quatre. "She said the knife slipped because she was frightened once again."

Duo paused halfway through taking another bite of his cotton candy. "Huh?"

"Catherine," Trowa explained. "She said Uno had a similar look on her face as I had when I first was assigned that job." Duo glanced over to the little, innocent five-year-old who was eating cotton candy and petting the lion, smiling as Heero paid more attention to the conversation rather than the big cat. "She said Uno had the look of death on her face and Uno explained to me that before she noticed the knife she had drifted away from reality and into thought."

"But," Duo glanced back at Trowa. "You mean… Uno looks like she wants to die when she's not keeping a smile?"

Trowa nodded and frowned. "I saw it to but kept silent so we could discuss it later."

That night, as Quatre and Trowa prepared for bed, Quatre had pondered something. Duo had already tucked Uno in and went to sleep as well and Trowa just came out of the shower.

"Trowa," Quatre frowned over at him, sitting on the edge of the bed brushing his hair. Quatre stepped out of the bathroom and glanced down at his fidgeting fingers.

"Yes?"

"What happened? I nearly had a heart attack."

Trowa shrugged. "She just… ducked."

"Ducked?"

"Yeah." Trowa lowered the brush to his lap and frowned up at his mate. "As if nothing was wrong and just she saw something bad coming at her."

"Oh my goodness," Quatre breathed out, clutching his chest. "Just like that?" Trowa sighed and stared at the brush in his hands. "What do you think that says about her in the future?"

He shrugged. "I pity whoever becomes her enemy." He sulked slightly and stared back at Quatre's watering eyes. "I'm afraid to say… she doesn't fear death."

---

"Uno!" Uno shook head head and returned to the present moment. "Uno didn't you hear?" Currently, Charline was tugging painfully on her arm and shaking it violently.

"Hear what?" Uno muttered nonchalantly.

"They just picked you!" Meg shouted in glee. She clapped her hands and blushed deeply.

"Wha?" Uno glanced around and found everyone staring at her. "What?"

"You with thee long breed," the Gyspy host growled out loud, an accusing finger directed at Uno. "I want you to be my targit!"

Uno frowned and slightly gasped. "You want to throw knives at me?" She managed to say. The man nodded and Meg and Charline continued to push her out of her chair. "Um… okay." Uno stood. "But only if I get to do the same to you in return."

The man began laughing. He closed his eyes, through his head backwards, and placed a hand on his large stomach. Only then did he stop he found Uno glaring at him, not even an inch away.

"You are serious!"

"Very," Uno growled. Without listening to his reply, she turned away and stepped up to the board. Extending her arms she stood there patiently and watched as the knives scattered all around him.

She grinned when he through the last one and watched it land an entire foot away from her face.

"Excellent," she muttered. Turning back to him, she allowed a sparkle to shine in her eyes. "Now it's my turn."

The man laughed and turned to the audience. "This wrench theenks she can throw bettah than me!" The crowed laughed with him. He pulled the knives out of the board and placed them on the table. Uno stepped up to the point she would have to stand at and watched him back himself up to the targetboard. He exteneded his arms and snickered.

"Try not to kill anyone."

Uno lifted up a blade by the handle and frowned down at it. She chewed the inside of her cheek then looked at his grinning face. She would have loved to throw it at his face instead but upon immediately throwing, she only got on the very egde of the board.

Uno winced as the man started laughing even louder.

"There," he lowered his arms, "ya through one."

"One more time," Uno muttered, her voice turning to that of a feral growl. The man had the audience raise their laughter with his and Uno lifted up three blades in each fist, each blade between each finger. She glared over at him and pulled an arm backwards, then wrapped it around her front and took a step back.

"Are you ready?" Her voice was dark and the look on her face made everyone freeze.

She looked utterly evil.

The man raised his arms and waited. Immediately, Uno through out her right arm then the left directly afterwards without waiting. Six blades instantly dug into the board only mere centimeters away from his skin, all over his head, neck, and shoulders. Fear piled into his eyes but Uno didn't give him time to even piss in his pants. She instantly grabbed two more fist fulls and through again.

The final blade she flipped around in the air, snickering at the man who could barely move without risking his life against the blades.

"Didn't think I could do that," she said darkly. "Did you?" The knife flipped in the air again and in less than a second after she grabbed it, she released it and it flew into the board not even a centimeter from the center of his legs.

He gasped and his eyes got huge. Uno casually turned away from the stage and left the tent, knowing her two friends would immediately follow along. As soon as she stepped outside, Meg and Charline circled around her.

"How did you do that?" Meg raced out.

"Uno—you were tremendous!" Charline stammered out.

"That man was horrible!" Said Meg.

"I can't believe you showed him." Said Charline.

Uno frowned and put her hands up into the air. "Please… no more. Talk once or not at all." Meg and Charline stared at one another before falling out into a fit of giggles.

"Come Uno," Charline tugged on her arm again, "there's another side game I'd like to go try out."

"Oh yes," Meg beamed, "the 'Drench a Wrench'! That looked outright fun!"

"The what?" Uno followed her friends.

"A Gypsy woman sits on a bench above a tank of water," Meg explained. "And there's a button you have to push it—but you must use what they give you to throw instead of using your own hands."

Uno frowned. "It's a dunking booth?" Then a small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "Yes… let's go play that game."

Charline paid for the three of them to have three shots, but right after she left Uno paid the extra amount to receive a full bucket of tries. Meg gave her a funny look but merely shrugged it off, knowing Uno to be a show-off. Charline attempted her six throws and failed. Meg tried and got close, but failed as well. They watched as Uno placed the bucket down on the shelf besides her and lifted up a rag with a rock secured inside of it, making a painful beanbag. She tossed it up and down a few times in her hand and sent a grin over to the Gypsy woman sitting on the bench.

_You're not serious…_

"Oh yeah," Uno muttered very softly.

_But with your skill that woman will catch a cold in less than the first four throws!_

Uno grinned. "Her fault for signing up on this game."

_You are purely evil._

"I know."

_Go for it then, Little One._

Uno narrowed her eyes and threw the first one. The woman fell into the water and the crowed cheered Uno on. Meg clapped her hands and Charline smiled over at Uno.

"If you keep that up the poor woman would never get dried up."

"Good," Uno through another and again, the woman fell just after she was seated.

"Ya wrench!" The woman shouted outloud as soon as she came up for air. "Who through that!" All fingers pointed at Uno.

Who was currently tossing up her third throw.

The woman took another seat and frowned. "Ah boy… this woman may very well be thee end of mee!"

-

Before Uno, Meg, and Charline left the fair later that night, they stopped back by the Hell Spawn tent. Uno poked her head inside and saw the poor boy sitting inside the cage with the Gypsy man inside with him, beating him with a blunt stick. She frowned then turned back to her two friends.

"I'll meet you back at the theater," she rushed out, not wanting them to know what was going on behind the closed up tent.

"But… Uno… it's a long walk," Charline protested.

Uno nodded and opened her mouth to speak but Meg jumped in first. "Uno—please, be careful. My mother tells me horrible stories about the Gyspies and what they can do."

Uno smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't think I can handle myself, do you?"

Meg shook her head quickly. "There's no doubt in my mind that you can!"

"But please be safe," Charline added in. "I will see you tomorrow."

Uno nodded. "Take care heading back to the theater."

"Until tomorrow," Meg said. Uno watched both girls turn to leave before heading inside the tent. As soon as she stepped inside the Gyspy was locking the cage back up. He raised his head and narrowed his eyes when he saw who it was.

"You again," he growled.

"Yes me," Uno crossed her arms over her chest.

"You come to pay me?" He stepped up to her and glared down into her face. Uno could smell the nasty scent of unwashed skin from weeks ago radiating off his flesh.

"In a way," she shrugged.

"In _what_ way?"

Uno nodded her head and bit her lower lip. "In this way."

Without another thought, she slammed her foot up between his legs and crushed his nuts. He grabbed his crotch and bent over, eyes wide and mouth gaping. In no time to spare, Uno grabbed the back of his head with both hands and slammed his face down onto her rising knee. Blood spurted out of his nose and he fell backwards into the hay. Taking a deep breath, she raised a foot high into the air, stretched her legs, and then slammed the heel of that foot down onto his throat.

The man died without a second more.

Uno turned back to the cage and saw the boy sitting up, leaning against the back of it all. She frowned and went to the door and glanced down at the lock. With a smirk, she removed her generic lockpick out of the nape of her braid and set to work on the lock. A minute later, she put the lockpick away back into her hair and tossed the lock away.

Uno was by the boys side in a heartbeat and frowned when she noticed how much blood covered his body.

"You're not doing so well," she muttered. The boy stared up at her with wonder and Uno raised his head in her arms to help him up more.

"Who are you?"

"Don't worry about it," she muttered, looking over his barely covered body and the wounds that tarnished it. "Just know that you wouldn't have been saved if Angel hadn't sent me here."

He shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "An angel sent you."

Uno's gaze snapped in his direction but she held her tongue. The boy thought an angel had sent her. Too bad he didn't know her machine's name was Angel.

"How did you get here?"

"My mother sold me," he breathed out. "Four years ago."

Uno nodded, taking it all in. "You're in very bad shape. You have absolutely no meat on your bones, no muscle, it seems, and by the looks the amount of blood leaving your body, you'll soon be out of blood, as well."

He released another heavy sigh. "I feel so tired." Uno widened her eyes. "And cold."

"You're… no—stay awake with me," she snapped then began shaking him. "Stay awake! I can help you! I know Herbal Medicines and all you need is food!"

But he was already too far from her to be reached.

_He's in a coma,_ Zero had said with her voice again. _There's nothing you can do._

Uno sighed and lowered him to the hay. "Yeah… yeah, I know."

_He's gone… just his body doesn't know it yet._

Uno nodded. "I'll relieve him of that pain then."

_Are you sure you wish to do this? To do something good, like this?_

"I have no choice," she pressed the veins in his neck closed and waited until his body died from lack of oxygen. "He'll live in Hell until I can send his body to Heaven." She hung her head and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry but I can't let an innocent soul die without aiding it to a peaceful place."

_I applaud you,_ there was happiness in the back of Zero's comment. _You are finally making the _right_ decisions._

The body relaxed in the hay when it fully died. Before she pulled away, Uno sent a light kiss to the boy's forehead.

"Sleep well, Little One," she whispered. "I know my father will take care of you until I go up there to help."

-

Erik gasped when he watched the braided diva send a small kiss to the boy's head. He ducked back into the shadows and waited until she passed by before following her back to the opera house. If he had known of a woman that generous when _he_ was the Devil's Child, he would have had a second chance.

But Antoinnette wasn't as generous as Uno proved to be. Yes she hid him but she wouldn't help kill him so his body could finally find rest. She wouldn't kiss him goodbye and wish his body to Heaven.

She wouldn't kill the Gyspy for abusing the poor child, as Uno had.

Erik shook his head and muttered beneath his breath. More and more he was finding out that Uno just wasn't a normal woman. He knew, already, that she was unique, having plenty of conversations with herself and dazing out and forgetting her current surroundings. He knew, already, that she could achieve any task and show it off better than the main attraction. What he _wanted_ to know was where she came from.

And he _highly_ doubted she came from America.


	25. Royal Engagement

**Prepare to laugh a lot. This chapter has tons of funnies in it.**

**I've gone though tons of stress and lately I feel it's beginning to lessen. FINALLY! I have a new boyfriend now who fits the role of my Master (and he loves claws). I am about to get my certificate and then afterwards pick up my degree for Visual Communication, so anyone who needs a website, flash animation, graphic design, photo-manipulation, advertising, etc--you may come to me! I won't charge much and if it's some dinky thing, probably not at all.**

**You will notice I have removed several _Phantom of the Opera_ fics from my profile. Why, you say? Because I have no more time to write for these when I'm trying to work on my DC3 fic, my Fighting Fate fic (which I PRAY will be read--PLEASE READ IT!), and my Adult Fanfiction fics (some of those have been removed, as well). I'm trying to make Fighting Fate a long fic to become a book so please, read that and help me out. It's an Erik and Uno fic.**

**I also filled out a form for the Houston Modeling Agencies; yet another person met me and thought me to be a model so I think it's time to use what I believe God had given me. And hey, why not? I have the looks (you can see it on my deviant art profile) and according to the 'watch-list', I have the personality. People generally love me because of how sweet and original I am; there are VERY few ofmy types around, so yes I'm very pleased I'm an original.**

**THIS IS THE PRIME BALL CHAPTER! Finally... I know you are all trying to kill me because I have been pushing it back so much. If you want to see Uno's gown, you may view the Synodd website (located on my bio as the Duo's Child story website) and see the images under the profiles link and her name. You can view everything there--since the site is officially finished! Or at least until I decide to post the extra details that you won't really get to hear about until the other stories are written out (the beginning stories of the Duo's Child series).**

**So view the DC site! Please! Link is on my bio!**

**And go to my deviantART page of Kitty Felone (kittyfelone dot deviantart dot com)! There you will see every picture I have ever touched! You see ME, you see RICKY (drools), you see ERIK WITHOUT A MASK, you see UNO'S TWO FAMOUS DRESSES! You alsosee a lot more, too! So please! Go to the site! The link is ALSO on my bio!**

**Okay... onto the chapter. As I said, prepare to laugh a lot... but also feel very depressed at the same time.**

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-five - 

_After Colony 210  
__Calendar years: 4514 _

Chris stared out the window of his office and held his coffee mug in hand, every once in a while raising it to his lips to take another sip. Off in the distance he could see sparks admist the foggy night sky, clouding up even more of what would have been a beautiful, starry night. His office was dark, the only light coming in from the single window he stood in front of.

"Happy New Years, Christopher," His wife said from behind his desk. The giggling sounds of his son make Chris smile in return.

Without even turning around he heaved a sigh. "Happy New Year, Sarah."

It's been a little over a month that he and Sarah married and only one month since his son, Quatre, was born. He named his son after the man who owed him everything. Without Quatre, Uno would have never been given the mansion and she would have never given _him_ the gift of owning everything before she exploded.

Sarah turned and left Chris to his private thoughts, contemplating on what his next move will be towards the Jupiter base. Chris released a deep breath and took another sip of his coffee. His brows creased as he imagined the fireworks in the sky exploding missiles. He tried to imagine the war still going on so he could see Uno head back to the group for some reason. So he could see Uno stop by to pick up more ammo. So he could see Justin smile for once more in these past three months.

Justin hasn't smiled since he found out Uno has been delivered elsewhere. It's almost as if he would rather she be dead, but as Chris tells him, at least this way they knew she was safe. Anywhere Uno wound up she was bound to survive. She was, after all, the daughter of Duo Maxwell.

The door to his office opened slowly, so slowly that Chris didn't hear it until his name was called.

"Chris." it was Justin's voice.

Chris frowned and glanced down at the courtyard below. "It's been three months, Justin," Chris said solemnly. "There's no way of bringing her back."

Justin shut the door and lowered his head. "I know," he muttered. "I wonder how she is, wherever she is."

"I'm sure she's fine," Chris murmured back. "She is, after all, a Maxwell."

Justin nodded and collapsed into one of the leather chairs seated before the desk. He bowed his head and leaned into one of his hands. If not for a sudden, deep and shaky intake of breath, Chris wouldn't have guessed anything was wrong.

"I just miss her so much," he choked out. Chris turned to see Justin's head bowed, the shadows of his face dark. He could still make out the sparkle as a tear fell. Chris felt his heart melt at the sight of seeing one of the strongest fighter's he's ever known breaking down before him.

"Justin," Chris muttered in aw.

"Everyday I look out the window and expect to see her driving up to the door on her bike," he whimpered out. "I expect to see her barge in through the front door, instantly turn away from us and head towards the weapon rooms." Chris saw another couple sparkles glide down Justin's cheek. "But I don't and it kills me to think I may never see her again."

"Justin," Christ muttered.

Justin raised his head and Chris gasped at the image of Justin's eyes soaked and his face drenched with moistness. "I mean—everyday I search for ways to bring her back or go to where she is now, and I find nothing." He swallowed back another wave of fresh tears but it didn't help, seeing as another few fell anyways. "We colonize on other planets, search out in space at distance locations the people haven't even _dreamed_ about, and we create ways to transport matter from one location to another—but we can't create a _fucking_ time machine!"

"Vincent sent his best researchers to locate any possible area she may have wound up," Chris explained. He reclaimed his executive chair and watched as Justin stared at him in disbelief. "I promise you Justin, we _will_ find her, one way or another."

Justin sniffled, bit his lower lip, and turned to stare at the side of the room. His brows creased as he contemplated the task Chris took so lightly.

"And what if she doesn't want to be found," he muttered. Turning back to Chris's confused face he added in, "What if Uno changes her name so she _can't_ be found?"

Chris frowned. "Then she's lost to us, forever."

-

_Calendar years: 1873_

The bell to Madam Wilma's rang as Uno opened and closed the door. Without slowing her steps she headed towards the counter in the back and raised her chin when the older woman stepped out of the back. Instantly, Wilma shot both her hands up into the air and smiled.

"About time ya' came to get your dress, Uno," she said cheerily. "It's been done for a few days now."

Uno smirked. "You're better than you appear."

Wilma waved her hand in the air and blew the compliment away like it was nothing. "It was nothing. But… have you got the amount?"

Uno narrowed her eyes. "Let me see the dress first."

Nodding, Wilma returned to the room. "This way then," she said. Uno followed the older woman into the back room and froze when she saw the glorious white gown hanging on the maniquin in the center of the room. It was trimmed in gold with blood rubies along the bottom of the hem and the bottom of the corset.

"It's beautiful," Uno murmured. She felt the fabric of the outer skirt and smirked, noticing it's a sheer lace. The fabric of the dress itself was rich satin, elegant at its best.

"It wasn't easy," Wilma breathed out. "But after a few pattern stetches it sewed like a charm."

"I bet."

"And the accessories to go with it," Wilma said, directing Uno to the table besides her. "A gold crown, a gold arm band—you need as much gold as possible to look the part of a queen, my dear."

Uno frowned back at the woman. "Queen?"

"Queen Uno," Wilma smiled. "You will look fascinating. Perhaps just as lovely as the Queen, herself."

Uno stared back at the dress. "Queen Uno," she muttered. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine when the words left her mouth. "I… I'll look like a queen?"

Wilma stepped up to the gown and caressed it. "With sheer elegance, I wouldn't be surprised if your dance card were filled by the end of the night." The woman turned to her then and frowned. "Will you need any attendance getting into this dress, Uno?"

"I think I can manage."

The woman eyed her but shook it off. "I know it will be hard but if believe you can do it," she smiled at Uno suddenly, a wicked grin charming her older face, "then go for it."

Uno untied the bag of franc notes from her side and handed Wilma the amount. "It's a little more than I even said I'd pay but consider it payment for friendship." Wilma slowly received the bag from Uno and frowned. "I um… I don't make friends that easily."

Wilma smiled and patted the young girl's hand. "Twill be alright, my dear." She nodded and said, "You'll look beautiful in this gown—probably appear more royal than the royal family, alone."

-

About an hour later Uno had the the two boxes tucked beneath her arms as she entered the theater. A few dancers turned her way but immediately turned away and fled. Viscount Raoul de Chagny was busy talking to both managers, his wife standing upstairs talking with Meg; both girls smiled when they noticed her but Uno acted as if she had never noticed them. She quickly made her way towards her room and—

Froze the second she opened the door. There was her reflection, shining back at her. She slowly entered the room and closed the door. After setting the two boxes down on the floor she went straight to the mirror and felt around on it. Its smooth texture told her that it was brand new.

A splash of red and black on white caught her eye to the right. Uno found a note on the desk with another rose and black tie. The seal of the skull stared up at her, like the face of death from a note sent by Hell.

_A skull… how… odd…_

Uno's eyes narrowed. "It's just a skull," she murmured to herself, lifting the note up in her hands. "So what?"

_Who else had the skull as a seal?_

Uno ignored the comment and tore apart the seal. Inside, written in elegant spidery handwriting, was the letter signed by Erik.

It read:

_Uno- _

_Perhaps this will tell you not to attempt at breaking the mirror again. The replacemen was not as easy as I would have wished so I warn you once: do not destroy it. _

_My wonders at where you may have turned up last night. Our agreement was to meet on the rooftop yet I find you did not attend the lectures. _

_Do not make me wish I didn't kill you. _

_Signed- _

_Erik _

Uno's eyes narrowed and she stared back at the mirror. "Kill me?" she snorted. "I'd like to see you even _try_!"

-

Charline tapped at Uno's door later that afternoon. As soon as Uno opened it a huge smile played across the ballerina's face. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks flushed.

"I was wondering what you were going to look like," Charline said to Uno's annoyed expression.

Uno frowned. "Come again?"

"For the ball tonight. I was hoping I could sneak a peak."

Uno smirked. She had to give it to Charline; the girl knew how to sneak but not secretly.

"No," Uno said on a whim, "I think I'll stun everyone tonight." Charline sulked and Uno bathed in the glory of her lurking sadness. "That way it will be more of a treat for me than everyone else."

"Oh Uno," Charline breathed out, "that is truly cruel."

"Not entirely," Uno replied through a grin.

"Wouldn't you be needing any help?"

"No."

"How about to set the dress on correctly," Charline tried again. "You wouldn't appreciate having to run through the building in search of Madam Giry if the dress wasn't fit correctly."

Uno smirked and leant on the door. "I can handle it."

"How about with your hair?"

"Nope."

Charline's mouth dropped. "You plan on wearing just the braid?"

Uno frowned. "And why not? My hair is too long to coil into a bun with a few whispy strands flinging around here and there," she added in. "And besides—I'm not going to steal the breaths away from _everyone_."

_Then again… Carlotta may not be able to top this gown._

"Well… should you be needing any help you know who to call for," Charline plugged. "Right?"

"I suppose so."

"Uno!"

"I really must let you go, Charline." Uno began closing the door, a sadistic grin on her face. "I need to prepare for tonight." Before Charline could get another word out the door closed and locked.

-

"Monsieurs," Erik pressed both of his palms onto the desk of Monsieur Firmin and glanced over at Andre. "I have a favour to ask of you."

Firmin's face drained of color. His eyes darted towards his partner then back to the owner of the theater. His lower lip trembled in slight fear.

"W-what is this favour?"

Erik's eyes narrowed, a grin playing across his face. "The Prime Ball is only several hours away. I do hope you pass the news around to keep my identity sealed."

Firmin frowned, entirely puzzled. "Pardon?"

"I simply do not wish to let everyone who attends the ball know that the phantom of the opera is really the owner of the theater." Erik breathed out whimsically. He pushed off the desk and folded his arms across his chest. "It'll cause too much a disturbance with the cast."

"I do not understand you," Firmin slowly glanced over at his partner. "Who does not know your secret, already?"

"Your finest member," Erik replied with a bit of distaste to his voice. Firmin glanced back at him, mildly stunned. "She does not believe in the stories and yet does not piece them together with 'the patron who wears a mask'."

"You tell her that you are a patron of the Opera Populaire?" Andre stepped into the conversation and shot a frightened look at his partner before returning to his boss.

"To say the least," Erik retorted. "That girl is to _not_ know who I really am or I shall rein Hell upon this theater once again."

-

Uno took a deep breath and stared at her reflection. Standing in only her green velvet dress, she tried to remember the training she had when she was younger; the training Relena had tought her about royality. Cringing at the memory of the overly pinkish manor, she thought back to when she stayed with the presence of two women who's beliefs about were opposed once another.

_Enjoying the view, are we?_

Uno glared her reflection. "Shut up Zero," she snapped. "I'm trying to remember what Relena taught me." She turned away from the mirror and stepped up to her bed where the two boxes sat. "I vaguely remember any of it."

_Oh but of course you recall the massive amount of pink she used to decorate her mansion with, right?_ Uno shuddered at the memory. _Ah, I can see it's true. You _do_ remember some of it._

"Yeah," she muttered. "Some but not all." Removing the lids of both boxes she stared down at the elegant dresses that would serve to show her true self. "I really don't want to do this."

_Yet everyone who is anyone will be attending the ball. _Uno narrowed her eyes. _Surely you wish to show off your royal status as Queen of humanity._

"Are you mocking me?"

_Actually I bet you sound odd as is, talking to the voices in your hed._

Uno rolled her eyes. "Shut up already." There was vague laughter in the back of her head but Uno managed to ignore it. She picked up the underlayer of her dress and pulled it entirely out of the box. Frowning at it as she looked it over, Uno figured she minus well go ahead and get his night over with. The sooner it began the sooner it would end.

"I _really_ don't want to do this.

---

"Now Uno," Relena cupped both hands together in front of her chest and neared the young girl. "The first rule you must remember when engaging in royal activities is to always remain calm. One should never release too much excitement over petty things."

Uno frowned. "Who taught you all of this?" Behind Uno, Dorothy giggled softly. "And how do I know what you're teaching me is right?"

Relena opened her mouth to speak but shut it immediately. She frowned down at the girl before her, wishing the child was more like her mother rather than her father; even if Relena didn't know Uno's mother she bet it would be much better than having to deal with another Duo.

"Uno," Relena tried again, "as Queen of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations, I have attended many extravagant balls, already."

"How many did you attend at my age?" Uno countered mechieviously. "How many did you attend at eleven?"

Relena frowned and bit her lower lip. "Please don't make this harder than it is already becoming."

Uno shrugged her little shoulders. "I'm not making it hard—you are." Dorothy grinned over at Relena. "All I'm doing is asking questions."

"It appears Miss Uno has you there, Miss Relena," Dorothy chuckled. She whipped her hand out from behind her long blond hair and tossed it over her shoulder. "I believe she is correct."

"You're not making this any easier, Dorothy," Relena shot back. She stared down at the braided child before her, her own blonde hair pulled back into a low pony-tail with a royal blue bow.

"Uno," Relena began, "I want you to pay attention and _not_ interrupt me, understand?"

"But if I don't ask questions I'll never learn," Uno countered. Again, Dorothy chuckled.

Relena hung her head and groaned, "I wonder if Duo has this problem with you."

A childish giggle emerged from Uno's bright smile. "Nope!"

---

Uno stared into the mirror and at the dress she held in front of herself. She frowned, trying to get a feel for the way it would look on her. No matter how much she squinted, no matter how much she pictured it, she couldn't place herself into the body of an upper class member of society.

"How in the Hell is one supposed to see themselves as royality if they were always too busy fighting wars?"

_Well at least you got the part down_, Zero teased. _Keep this up and you'll talk like a regular Queen copied off Relena._

Uno frowned and bit the inside of her cheek. "Well I suppose she was the only royal influence in my life." She sighed then and turned away from the mirror. "I just wish I paid closer attention to her lectures."

---

"How old are you, Uno?" Relena asked as she sat down in the chair across from Dorothy and the chess table.

Uno stepped up to the two women and frowned. "Eleven… why?"

"Did you know that at seven I was shaking hands of many noble faces?" Relena smiled and nodded her head at Dorothy. "And Dorothy was part of the Romefellar Foundations general spy branches?"

Uno frowned. "What does that have to do with me?"

Relena turned back to Uno and smiled. "All I'm saying is that you are given the opportunity to have royal training and you are shoving it away. You have the opportunity to attend royal balls, engagements, and join upper class society." She frowned suddenly. "Why do you not wish to divulge into these fun things where most girls your age dream about being a princess. You, already, could become queen."

Uno's brows creased together, knowing the truth behind what Relena was referring to. She understood how most girls craved to be in her current position; after all, Theresa envied her already but enjoyed at least being the best friend of one.

"I have a… question for you," Uno muttered. Relena's little smile widened and she tilted her head to the side. A twinkle of victory sparkled in her blue eyes. "Did you know that at age five, I was living on the streets, surviving and managing to stay alive for a year and half prior?" A quaint little grin tugged at Uno's lips. "And that whereas most girls—including yourself—played with dolls and their parents, I played with common by-standers by playing practical jokes and tricks on them, stealing their possessions, reselling what I did not wish to keep, and learning the streets as if I were an everyday street rat?"

Dorothy ducked behind a hand and started to chuckle endlessly. Relena gaped at her, mouth wide open, and squeaked several times. She blinked her stunned blue eyes down at the grinning Chesire cat grin on the little girl, shocked and unable to comprehend even a single thought.

"I… you…"

"Although you, like everyone else, had a loving family and childhood I was forced into maturity by the age of three." Uno's grin widened and without another thought she turned on her heels and left the parlor.

---

Uno tucked the green velvet dress away into a drawer and stepped into the white gown. Pulling the gown halfway up her waist she stopped and frowned at a scar that shown back at her. Touching it she reminisced the memory of it and cringed when she remembered which attack it came from.

"God I hope nobody notices these," she muttered aloud.

_I think your worst trait is your breasts._

Uno froze and frowned. "Excuse me?" She barked softly. "Get out of my mind, you _hentai_."

_I'm not pertaining to sexual, of course,_ Zero retorted. _Just that since women do not wear braziers in this day and age and you refuse to wear a corset, your once beautiful breasts are going to start sagging. What was once beautiful, round, and full will become ugly, sagging, and empty._

"Yeah well I don't care," she shot back. "If anybody wishes to see them it won't be the first."

_Talking like a true slut._

"You will shut up or I will stab myself in the temple—or shoot myself as Ricky did." Uno continued lifting up the gown and setting it into place.

_Yes but unlike Ricky, you won't die._

She sighed, knowing Zero was right. If she didn't die from the explosion she wouldn't die from a gunshot. If she didn't have much of a fractured leg when Marcella pushed her down the stairs she wouldn't have much of a chance at staying dead.

Again, Zero was right and she was wrong.

"I hate you."

_But of course you can't live without me._

Uno rolled her eyes. "I can still hate you."

---

"Now Uno," Relena pushed Uno in front of the huge wall mirror in the closet and began brushing the long brown hair. "What was the first thing a lady of royality is supposed to do upon checking herself in the mirror?"

Uno sighed. "Make certain her makeup is in tact," she replied nonchalantly. "And powder her nose. Even if it isn't required, making yourself look the part will prove to show that you care."

Relena smiled and nodded in approval. "Exactly."

"I still don't see how it should matter," Uno retorted. Relena released the strands of brown hair and let Uno turn around to face her. "If the queen cares more about her looks than the people she's a horribly tyrant."

Relena folded her arms. "Just trust me on this, Uno. If the queen can look extravagant then the people believe she cares more for them."

Uno frowned. "I don't get it."

"Perhaps I may be of some use," Dorothy cut in. She stepped up to Uno, her black skirts swaying as she walked. "Uno… should a queen look like a common-day civilian then the other people would not understand why she was given the chance to rule them. If she looks the part of the queen then they know not to step before her and challenge her, knowing that she has the full power to destroy them if need be it."

"So what you're saying is," Uno began, "if I look like Duo they wouldn't take me seriously?" Both women nodded. "Then all you had to say was that!" Both women grunted and Uno giggled.

"Are you finished toying with our minds, Uno?" Relena grumbled. Dorothy returned to the settee and reclaimed her seat. "I would appreciate if you got at least _some_ of the basics down before tonight's royal engagement party."

Uno smiled and giggled. "But you know how I _have_ to give everyone a hard time." She spun back around to stare into the mirrors and allowed Relena to continue brushing her hair. "At least I won over the earlier battle."

" Battle?" Relena shot out in shock. "You consider arguing over what dress to wear a battle?"

"It appears, Miss Relena, that Miss Uno doesn't consider everyday debats common arguments," Dorothy chuckled out.

"It appears so," Relena breathed out.

Uno smiled and fluttered her lids up at the royal bitch standing behind her, using the mirror to reflect her actions. The dress the two women managed to get her to wear was pale blue satin. Relena had tried to urge her to wear pink but Uno made it quite clear that pink just wasn't going to touch her skin. Not only did Duo hate the color, Uno as well, felt to burn in Hell for considering it.

"You're hair is lovely, Uno." Relena stared at the young girl in a dreamy state. "I don't think it will fit into a coiled bun, though."

Uno frowned. "Why can't I wear it down?"

"Well it's too long."

"But Dorothy wears hers long," Uno countered. "Why can't I?"

"Dorothy isn't full royality," Relena fought back.

"Neither am I."

Relena sighed. "Uno—you will do as I say." Relena barked. "Do you understand?"

"No," Uno replied honestly. Relena's mouth dropped. "You may rule the people but you don't rule me. I do not believe in your laws or your rules so therefore I do not have to abide by them."

"Yes you do!" Relena spun her around and knelt to stare Uno into the eyes. "Every_one_ on Earth is _my_ responsibility and they _must_ listen and abide by whatever I say and do or else there will be a penality to pay. I am queen and therefore they _must_ do as I say."

Uno cocked her head to the side in wonder. "So you rule all of humanity?"

"I—well… no," Relena stumbled.

"Then you do not rule me."

Relena hung her head and groaned. "Dorothy… I think we'll be needing another break." She raised her head and stared into innocent, honest eyes with her own tired ones. "I think this is going to be harder than I had assumed it would become."

---

Uno smoothed out both layers of the dress. She stared at her reflection and smiled. She actually admired the gown; whether it was white or dark, she knew she would look the part. Although she gave Relena a hard time she learned all she needed and everything the woman was trying to teach.

_Beautiful design._

"It is, isn't it?" Uno said softly, smiling in approval. "I think Relena would have been satisfied."

_I think she would have died from a heart attack._

Uno giggled. "Yeah… yeah she would have."

---

"Alright now Uno," Relena sat down in her wingback chair and sat in correct posture. Uno raised her chin and squared her shoulders back. The girl lost the battle at the hair topic, having to leave it in a braid. Only what Uno _also_ lost to was dressing it up.

Relena managed to win and put beads, jewels, and ribbons in the braid.

"Ma'am?" Uno curtsied. Relena nodded her head in approval. "What do you ask of me?"

Relena smiled at Uno's royal acting. "Dorothy is queen," Relena extended her hand to her partner and watched as the two of them exchanged curtsies. "She is addressing you on a public notice. How do you respond?"

"Good afternoon, Uno," Dorothy bowed her head some.

Uno smiled with flattery and curtsied in her queen-like manner. "Greetings your majesty. It is a fine night, is it not, Queen Dorothy?"

Dorothy smiled and nodded slowly. "It is."

"Excellent," Relena cut in. "Now… Dorothy is going to address you on a personal notice. How do you respond?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Uno," Dorothy bowed her head once again. "It is nice to see you once again."

Uno smiled and bowed her head. "Milady Dorothy," Uno beamed, "you look lovely."

Dorothy smiled. "Thank you. You, yourself, are looking rather splendid, as well."

Uno nodded. "I thank you, as well."

"Good." Dorothy turned back to the settee and Relena stood up. "Now Uno… when addressing the public as a whole you talk with honor, class, and _never_ allow your common side to show." She paused, realizing something more. "_Especially_ your street side."

Uno smirked. "Afraid I may take away more of your attention to alarm people that a three-year-old lived survived street life?"

"No," Relena said slowly. "I'm afraid that when noble faces learn of their future queen growing up as a street rat, it will make them feel they are better than you."

Uno frowned, not sure if she heard correctly. "Future queen?"

Relena smiled and flashed her eyelids. "You heard me correct."

"Me… f-future… queen?" Relena nodded. "H-how can I become future queen?"

"Well unless Heero and I have children you will be the heir for the throne. I do not wish to adopt and you are closest in my family line. Dorothy and I will not live forever and you are already raised by the veterans of the past war—_and_ the founder of the Winner Corporation." Relena paused to allow all the information sink into the young girl's mind. "It's only right that you are given this opportunity."

Uno's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Me? Queen of the Earth Sphere Unified Nations?"

Relena shrugged and glanced over at Dorothy. Frowning suddenly, she turned back to Uno. "Well… not _just_ the Earth. Since Quatre and Trowa cannot have children of their own I am certain they will leave the Winner Foundation to your name, as well as the manor." Relena smiled at Uno's shocked face. "Now you see why I feel it is important for you to learn everything?"

"I'll become queen of humanity…"

"That is correct," Relena agreed. "You will rule the planet, each colony, all corporations, the entire military, each unit and division of sectors on each remaining planet, _and_ run the government all on your own. _You_ will be in charged of _everything_."

---

_Don't you sometimes wonder what would have happened had you stayed in the future instead of somehow traveling to the past?_

Uno frowned. She picked up her hair brush and began brushing out the tangles of her long hair. The tangles came from unwraveling the braid. She stepped up to the mirror and began addressing her hair.

"I would have become a tyrant if I took command of all the power I was given."

_And yet Chris didn't?_

"I knew Chris wouldn't change," Uno explained. "Yeah—so he's flipped, gone insane, and lost his dignity because he blew somebody's face off less than a yard away from himself."

_Lovely description…_

"But he would have split his inheritance with the rest of the gang. Mandy would become Queen; Vincent would run the military; Justin would take over the research departments and all the sectors on the remaining planets, and Chris would run the government and Winner Corportaion." Uno cringed when she tore thought a knot. "I'm not needed."

_But it was rightfully yours, Uno. Why give it all up?_

Uno sighed and dropped her arms. The brush dangled by her side, her head bowed, and her head cascading across her shoulders to hang in front of her elegant gown.

"I wouldn't have been able to make it with my past," she muttered softly. "With being a veteran—one of the best—and raised by the best veterans from the war before mine…" she sighed. "It would haunt my rein until somebody overthrowed me."

_And yet no body would overthrow Mandy or these other people you left it all to?_

"No… because they're the only survivors of the war and nobody would dare stand up to them. Synodd fears me but they were too busy trying to kill me than to overthrow me."

_Ricky tried—_

"Ricky's dead!" Uno glared her reflection. "Just leave the past where it belongs—in the past!" Her grip tightened on the brush handle and her nose wrinkled in ager. "Why can't anyone just leave the past alone!"

_Don't throw the brush, Uno._

Uno geared back with the brush in hand and prepared to hurl it at her reflection.

_Erik would not approve of you disappointing him._

"_Fuck him!_" Uno roared. She threw the brush but it thankfully hit the wall. She gaped and stared at where it smacked before lowering her gaze to where it now laid. "You made me miss!"

_I saved you from having to duel with a raged man._

"You made me miss!"

_Isn't it about time you grow up and get ready for your royal engagement?_ Zero shot back. _Or are you too busy playing angry toddler, throwing things around because you can't get your way, and being a spoiled, snobbish brat?_

Uno fumed. "I'm not snobbish."

_Yes you are._

"Duo didn't want me to become snobbish."

_But you did as soon as he left. After all, _you_ hit_ him_ when he tried to hold you back from the mission that later took your life. You acting snobbishly resulted in him going after you, to save you from a fate that you had no idea about, and it killed him in the process._

Uno hung her head in shame. "Kill me."

_Now you're acting like Heero._

"Hn," she snorted.

_Grow up Uno._ Zero lectured. _Face your fears, face your past, and let it go. Don't try and hide under a rock because you messed up in something. Don't try and run from what you yourself made happen. Stand up and take responsibility for the actions you have pulled._

She heaved a deep breath. "I suppose Relena wouldn't be pleased with me if she saw that I haven't even tried to fit in."

_So what do you propose to do?_

Uno opened her eyes, raised her head, and stared into her own eyes. A determined glaze washed over her face and upon raising her chin and squaring her shoulders back, decided on her next objective.

"I'm going to show them just who I was raised to become."

---

"I congratulate you, Uno. You have not only succeeded in proving yourself a valuable asset in the royal engagement but you have also proved to me that you can change your persona to play the part of a queen." Relena smiled brightly. "I am very pleased."

Uno bowed her head and curtsied. "Why thank you, your makesty." She smiled up at the woman before her and fluttered her lids. "I am honor to have had the ability to attend the royal ball by the queen's side."

"Now Uno," Relena breathed out, "you can stop with the acting. I _know_ that really isn't you."

"Quite the contrary," Uno said. An evil grin formed on her lips. "I think I will remain like this until Duo picks me up later tomorrow afternoon. I _do_ wish to frighten my adopted father." Relena's smile turned into a grin of her own. "He is, after all, trying to make me become the next Goddess of Death; and if one is to achieve _that_ level, one must know how to act in royal atmospheres."

---

Christine and Meg were on the second floor of the theater, close to the dorms, when Uno stepped out of her room. The viscountess's dress was pale pink—which made her shudder and instantly think of Relena—and her thick brown hair had gems weaved into the strands. Meg was wearing a thin white gown and on a sparkling silver braclet. Both girls did not notice Uno but Uno made sure she remained in the shadows until they left. When finally they turned away to retreat to the grand hall, Uno stepped back into the light.

_Hiding until the remarkable entrance, are we?_

"Always."

She managed to get a few feet down the hall before she heard a cry of glee and her name. Uno froze and winced, hoping nobody else heard the frightened call. Slowly, she turned around to see Charline stepping lightly up to her, mouth gaping open and eyes as wide as saucers.

"Uno?"

Uno smirked, crossed her arms, and cocked her head to the side. "Who else would it be _baka_?"

Charline gave a weak smile before getting a closer look at the elegant gown on her best friend's figure. "Oh my," she muttered. "You are beautiful."

Uno smirked. "Thanks."

"I think you would be overly dressed for this ball, though."

"Huh?"

Charline frowned. "You look like a queen."

A dark chuckle escaped Uno's lips. "Thanks."

"I am serious, Uno!" Charline spat. "You're royally dressed for an engagement ball—not the Prime Ball."

"Again—thank you. My design paid off, I can see."

Charline's mouth dropped even more—if it were possible. "_You_ designed this dress?"

Uno shrugged her shoulders and cast a frightened glance down the hall to the where the party ran. "Many designs, actually," she murmured. When Uno returned to her friend's face she saw that the shock still hasn't eased. "I had Madam Wilma take all my designs and form one."

Charline inhaled deeply. "Madam Wilma? She is a magnificent seamstress, Uno. How did you _ever_ afford it?"

"I… had a little help," Uno glanced off to the side, slightly under pressure. "Baron Richard Von Clarion helped with my payments." Uno smiled, knowing the full meaning behind her definition of 'help'.

Charline covered her mouth. "You slept with him!"

Uno felt taken aback and gasped at her. "No!" She spat back. "He helped with my payments—I helped him in education about politics," she lied. "He needed help with manipulating the political system and I know government best, so I offered for payment of my Prime Ball gown."

Charline smiled dreamily. "How did you find him?"

That surely stumped Uno. "I… um… err… heard him talking to his partner while I was shopping around for a dressmaker." Charline's eyes dropped to the floor. "Charline?"

"I heard he had died," she muttered. Charline raised her head and stared Uno in the eyes. "Didn't you know?"

Uno frowned. "Know what?"

"The girls are saying that the coachman went to the door, wondering where the Baron was because he wasn't arriving outside on time for the pickup for his meeting," she explained. "The coachman found the Baron's butler lying in the foyar—not breathing—then they found the Baron laying in his bed—not breathing either."

Uno nodded her head, learning more about what the authorities had to say about her most recent murders. "Go on," she drilled. "How did they die?"

"No one knows," Charline said with a sulk. "They say he just… died over night."

Uno frowned. "That's it? No autopsy, no suggestions?"

She shook her head. "Nope… as if his lungs have failed him over night. They said lack of air."

Uno smirked but did well to hide it. "How sad," she said with false sympathy. "He was a good man." And how true that was—considering he was going to marry her and wind up abusing her.

"I find it horrible," Charline said. "I heard the coachman said he had found the woman he had been searching for. He picked up a prostitute, brought her back to the Baron's manor just outside of Paris, and together the two of them danced into his home."

A cold sweat washed over Uno, knowing just _who_ that 'prostitute' was. "Did he describe her, at all?" Charline shook her head and Uno set comforting hands upon her shoulders. "Go to bed, Charline. I'll see you in the morning."

Charline smiled and bowed her head. "Enjoy the party, Uno. I wish I could join you."

Uno snorted. "I wish you could take my place."

She watched Charline leave until the girl was out of sight. As soon as Uno was alone once again, she released the heavy breath she held back.

"That was close."

_You should have covered your steps better,_ Zero lectured. _But you _did_ manage to make his death suspicious._

She turned around and continued heading towards the party.

-

Erik bowed before Madam Giry and Meg, sweeping his cape back some like a proper gentleman. He was wearing a fine suit, tailored by only the best and trimmed with gold. Madam Giry was wearing an elegant gown—a little bit more elegant than her daughter—but not enough to steal the spotlight.

"Good evening, Erik," Madam Giry bowed her head as her daughter curtsied. "You are looking handsome tonight."

Erik smiled softly at her as he bowed his head, keeping his polished mask on the side not seen much by the two women. "You and your daughter are looking rather elegant, as well."

Meg blushed. "I thank you, Monsieur."

Erik bowed his head. "So are you prepared for the gala?"

Meg's smile brightened. "Definitely," she said with confidence. "I am certain to make the audience appreciated."

Erik bowed his head once again. "Excellent."

"The managers have informed me to keep your identity a secret tonight," Madam Giry said, giving Erik a curious eye. Meg frowned over at her mother. "Might I wonder why?"

"Keep it a secret?" Meg turned to Erik. "Who does not know?"

Erik's eyes narrowed. "A certain woman who carries honor on the same shoulders as her dignity." Meg's mouth droped then formed into an 'O'. "She still has yet to piece the puzzle together and until she does, I will appreciate it if she not learn the truth." Madam Giry's eyes quirked in curiousity at him. "I am amazed she has not yet realized it, actually."

"Well she has more on her mind than you can imagine," Madam Giry defended, knowing full well the secret Uno holds from everyone else. "After all, she fled America to hide out as a ballerina in Paris."

Meg gasped. "That is why she recoiled at the thought of becoming diva and learning opera?" Madam Giry nodded. "I did not know she fled America in fear."

Erik frowned, entirely interested in this new piece of information he has been yearning to learn. "What has happened to her there?"

Madam Giry sighed and glanced down at the wine glass she currently held. "She never said. All she has told me was that her life in America was a horrible one and she had to flee for safety of her own life."

"But what of her parents?" Meg wondered aloud. "She never once mentioned her family to me."

Madam Giry nodded and gave Meg a quick glance before turning to face Erik. "Like you, Erik, Uno has led an incredible life."

"Incredible," Erik repeated. "How so?"

The older woman shrugged and heaved a deep sigh. "It's hard to explain with such little she has told me. She has been in constant flee for her life since she was but a babe—always managing to survive on her own without help from anyone else. I'm surprised she's managed to survive as long as she had."

Meg frowned. "Wow," she breathed out. "So that explains why she is so determined to pull through whatever obstacles she comes across. Whatever challenges may be thrown her way."

Madam Giry nodded then turned to face Erik. "You have informed her to learn opera, I believe?"

Meg gasped at him in fear of the past repeating but Erik held up a hand to still her. "I will not allow the past to replay," he told her. "But I have heard her voice and know she is capable of singing opera."

"Uno… of what little I have heard she _is_ beautiful," Meg said dreamily over at her mother. Madam Giry gave her a cold look and Meg knew instantly what it meant. She curtsied to Erik. "If you will excuse me?"

Erik turned to Madam Giry as soon as Meg left them alone. "What do you wish to tell me, Antoinette?"

The older woman heaved another deep breath and stared into her red wine. "Have you fallen for her, Erik?"

Erik's mouth dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

But the older woman would not back down from her stand before him. She stared up into his dark eyes with a determined set of her own and stood her ground. Squaring her shoulders back, she raised her chin and challenged him.

"Have you fallen in love with her?"

"No."

"Be honest," she snapped. She knew Erik enough to know he would tiptoe around a topic like this. "I do not feel it would be safe for either one of you."

Erik eye's narrowed. "Why do you assume that?"

"The two of you have a dark history—hidden from society _and_ each other," she explained. "Don't make the mistake of falling into another trap with her."

"Antoinette—"

"Erik," she cut him off, "I know you enough to know that when you find something you like you will steal it for yourself. You have done such with the items I helped you obtain in our childhood, you have stolen Christine, and you have stolen the theater out from under the managers." Erik growled and turned away at the truth. "_Don't_ try to let that happen with her. She is far more a fighter than any 'jewl' you have found to your liking."

"_I_ am in control over _my_ own life, Antoinette! _I_ will decide what control I will take great efforts to obtain and—"

"Good," she cut him off again, like a mother to her son. "Then be certain you don't take control of this."

And with that she turned on her heels and left him to his own amazed silence. Erik closed his mouth and grit his teeth hard. Antoinette treating him the way a parent would treat their child—it angered him more than he could assume it would anger a child being lectured.

"I am _not_ falling for that _rat_," he seethed out beneath his breath. The woman didn't hear him, already too far away and in conversation with the conductor. Erik took a few steps towards her, ready to spin her around and put her in her place once and for all, but the the sight of white from the corner of his eye made him turn.

And he froze, mouth slowly dropping, eyes slowly widening, and heart suddenly pacing.

There, on the top step of the grand staircase, dressed in pure elegance of white satan and lace, with gold trim and blood rubies, stood the most beautiful creation God has ever made. She stood firm with her shoulders back and her chin held high. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight and when she glanced around at all the faces the corners of her lips quirked up to send off a full smile with her licious lips.

Erik found, through the corner of his eyes, that he wasn't the only one staring at her in shock. Every person around him had paused in their discussions to notice her. The way the light reflected off her tightly kept braid, the way the light sparkled off the jewls in her hair and the crown on her head, and the way her beauty had sent several stars to surround her figure; Erik wasn't sure if Heaven had sent another angel down to Earth or if he was seeing things.

She slowly descended the first step, keeping her eyes on the guests of the ball, her shoulders square, and her pride in tact. She raised a hand to the banister besides her and elegantly slid it down. Each step she took made her appear more elegant than the royak family. By the time she reached the bottom step, she found Erik was staring directly at her, mouth gaping open, and his eyes glazed over.

Erik didn't know how to conjure up a thought pattern or even mutter out a word. All he saw was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon, standing in front of him, _smiling_, and looking every inch royality.

And she was smiling!

Antoinette had wared him not to fall in love with the enraged diva, insisting that he stay hidden in the shadows rather than take to another pet. But here she stood before him, not enraged at all but rather pleased with his presence. Instead of a cold glare sat a satisfied twinkle in her eyes.

And she was smiling!

Erik shut his mouth suddenly, realizing all too late that he was staring with his mouth gaped open. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. Uno bowed her head and curtsied before him, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Monsieur," she murmured with a voice Erik didn't think she could possess. Instead of a hard tone or a vicious snarl, Uno spoke with complete politeness, an air of happiness, and what shocked him the most, she didn't hold a _single_ feeling of hatred like he usually felt radiating off of her.

"Mademoiselle," Erik bowed in return, finally finding his voice. When he stood back up he made a move. "You are rather lovely this evening."

Uno smiled elegantly. "Why thank you, Monsieur Erik."

"Please," Erik said. "You know my name, already."

Uno bowed her head. "That I do."

"Please use it, then."

She smiled and he could swear he heard a faint chuckle emerging from her throat. "But I simply cannot do that, Monsieur. After all, this _is_ the most elegant ball around, is it not?"

Erik smirked, admiring her genuine acting skills. "It is," he agreed. "Mademoiselle Maxwell."

Uno bowed her head. "Of course."

She turned and began to step away from him. Erik narrowed his eyes as he watched her step up to Christine and begin talking to his once-before fascination and speak as if she were on the same—or above—level of social upper class as the Viscountess.

"She is magnificent," Monsieur Reyer said from besides him suddenly. "Is she not?"

"Truly amazing," Erik muttered aloud in a dreamy state. "I cannot believe this is the same woman we see battling against Priscella."

Reyer nodded. "She has told me the owner had informed her to become an opera diva or her contract will be burnt," he said mysteriously, eyeing Erik at the same time. "Do you happen to know anything about it?"

Erik nodded and replied but kept his eyes on the woman who had officially stolen his heart that very night. "I found her dressed oddly in my lair."

"Oh?" Reyer turned to him in shock. "How did she find it?"

"She threw a candlestick at her reflection for some reason and found the passage," Erik replied. "I am amazed she survived my traps. I did not know it was her at the start for she is a great swordsman." Reyer frowned. "But she had let me win the sword fight and pulled some sort of revolver out. I truly believe she would have pulled the trigger had I not noticed who she was and backed down."

"You are serious?"

Erik nodded. "That woman knows how to manipulate _anything_ so she would win. She is truly a magnificent girl."

Reyer smirked and turned to see Meg stepping into the conversation of both the woman Erik has a heart for. "You have fallen for her, I see."

Erik finally turned away and signed. He faced his conductor and frowned. "Unfortunately as of tonight, she has appeared differently in my mind."

"She looks like a queen," Reyer corrected him. "I wasn't sure it was her."

Erik nodded. "She's truly a mystery."

"Well," Reyer breathed out. He turned back to see Uno giggling with Meg and Christine and acting girlishly. "At least she proves to be woman. I began to wonder at her… dyke persona."

Erik smirked and turned to face the three cheery girls. "She has proved all of us wrong, tonight."

Reyer heaved a sigh. "I heard she is to not know of your true secret." Erik turned to him then. "And to only know that you are a patron, rather than the owner."

"That is right."

"Why?"

"I am amazed she has yet to piece the puzzle together. It is not hard to find out, should she rather get bored and contemplate it on her own."

Reyer chuckled and patted the phantom on the back. "You are truly a remarkable man, Erik." Erik smirked. "I feel that should the two of you become a couple—we can expect many wars of triumph."

Erik frowned but Reyer had already turned away. He glanced back at Uno and sighed. If he and Uno had become a couple the world would end.

What, with two stubborn and confident people arguing it can't expect to continue turning.

-

Uno covered her mouth as she chuckled, finding Meg's little joke humorous. Christine paused then leaned into the group, more towards Uno, though.

"Uno," she paused. Uno smiled and became all ears. "How did you change?"

"Pardon?"

"Everytime I see you, you are cold and abrasive," Christine explained. "And tonight you are openly laughing and smiling."

Uno smiled and feined a blush. "I have secrets I don't share with many people."

"But you do it so well!" Christine glanced around the room sharply then leaned in closer to whisper. "It's as if you are truly a princess—no, a _queen_!"

Uno felt a cold shiver run down her spine but all she showed of it was a weakened smile and a sharp glance to Meg. "Honestly—I'm not much different."

"I'd say other," came a new voice. Christine gasped in glee and clasped her hands together. Uno frowned and turned to see a man with blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, his highly tailored suit on, and his blue eyes twinkling.

"Raoul!" Christine beamed. She ran into his arms and held his side. Uno curtsied and Raoul bowed in return.

"You _are_ looking very beautiful tonight, Mademoiselle Maxwell," he said smoothly. Uno felt her insides tumbling around at his voice and the words he chose to use with it.

"Isn't she?" Meg said with a dreamy expression. "She is such a wonderful woman when she opens up."

Raoul smiled. "I take it the upper class of society makes you comfortable?"

Uno shrugged. "I can relate," she muttered.

_Only if you're sitting on a throne and they're hanging in your dungeon,_ Zero corrected. Uno cleared her throat to keep the thoughts of what she believed of high class down to a minimum.

"Surely you must be of noble blood to relate so well," Raoul explained. "After all—your dress appears as elegant as a royal dutchess, your mannerism has improved compared to every other day I see you, and you smile and laugh more than I have _ever_ thought possible of you."

Uno felt her anger rising to a boiling state but she managed to cool it off. With an _extremely_ forced smile—which was more of a grin with how furious she had suddenly become—Uno chuckled darkly and battered her lids at him. "You're too kind."

_But can be kinder if you slit your own throat so I don't have to stain my dress,_ she added in mentally. Uno heard her voice in the back of her mind laughing, knowing Zero had entirely agreed with her.

She smiled sinisterly, feeling comfortable at having Zero with her even though he wasn't in his own human form.

"Well if you two ladies shall excuse me," Raoul bowed his head and turned away with Christine.

Meg turned to Uno with sparkles in her eyes. "I am _so_ pleased at you, Uno! You have _surely_ come a long ways tonight to show your _true_ self!"

Uno frowned. "True self?"

"Only high class can know how to act high class," Meg explained. "And you do it so well I would assume you are royality."

"Oh." Uno felt a cold sweat bead across her forhead suddenly.

"Excuse me Mademoiselles," both girls turned to see Erik bowing but only Meg wiped her smile off her face to that of alarm. "But I was wondering if I may acquire a dance with you, Uno."

Uno smiled and curtsied. "Certainly." She stole a glance at Meg and saw the fear in the young girl's eyes. She frowned but shot a glare in return, not understanding why people would shun him down for wearing a mask in public. When she was set to dance as his partner, she released—by accident—a deep breath.

Erik smirked. "Hiding your true self, I see?"

Uno kept her face on his chest but raised her eyes to stare up at him. "What gave it away?" She asked nonchalantly.

Erik chuckled darkly. "You hide it well to those who have nothing to hide," he explained. "But to one who hides, like myself, it is not very well hidden."

She closed her eyes and allowed the man to guide them in the dance. "I really hate being in these social parties. Ever since I was little I had been forced to attend these elegant balls and I never appreciated them."

"Oh?"

Uno opened her eyes and glanced over to where she saw Christine and Raoul dancing. "All I see when I look at the face of a noble person is a rich bastard with too much money on their hands and not enough sympathy for the needy."

Erik cleared his throat and Uno's eyes shot huge, suddenly realizing she slipped. She stole a frightened glance up at Erik and swallowed hard. Erik merely smirked and nodded his head in approval.

"It's alright Uno," he told her soothingly. "I know how you really are. I will not stand you out in the spotlight for speaking as if you were a street rat."

She turned away shyly. "I am a street rat," she murmured. "But I was also taken in by a noble family."

Erik paused the dancing and frowned down at her. Uno glanced up at him with an innocence in her eyes that she hadn't let show since Ricky came clean and tried to kill her. It was an innocence that she learnt to hide so her enemies wouldn't assume she was an easy target. If they saw a hard warrior as their enemy they would fear her and take a much easier job.

But only a select few knew that Uno was really an innocent girl.

And those select few were either dead or left behind in the future.

"Why would a noble family wish to take in a street rat?" Erik pondered softly.

Uno lowered her head and sighed. "It's a long story, Erik." She stared up at him with the same innocence and gave him a weak smile. "Just don't worry—it has nothing to really do with me anymore. What's in the past is in the past," she explained. "Leave it where it belongs."

Erik nodded but still stared down at her with weary laced in his eyes. "Very well," he muttered aloud. He continued the dance. "Although I am quite taken by your beauty tonight."

Uno felt a real blush creeping into her cheeks. When she smiled it was real and when she gazed up into his dark eyes she stared at him with real likeness rather than hatred.

"Thank you," she mumbled, lowering her head to hide her sudden attack of true affection. "That's… not spoken to me very often."

"It should be," he told her. Uno slightly pouted and stared up at him. "If you didn't hide behind a dark façade as often as you do, you would see it, yourself."

Uno glanced down then. "No… actually I wouldn't."

Erik frowned. "Why not?"

"It's a long story," she muttered before closing her eyes. "Let's just say… where I come from, I'm not well liked." She opened her eyes and stared up at him with pity. "I'm the target for mass amusement."

Erik took a deep breath and raised his chin. The dancing stopped once again and he frowned. "I see," he said softly.

Uno frowned and lowered her hands from his. "Y-you do?" She asked, honestly in a state of shock.

A flash of darkness streaked across Erik's eyes then. "It appears you and I have more in common than you assume."

Uno opened her mouth to speak but merely squeaked. _Oh boy_, Zero said, _this guy's fallen _hard_ for you, Uno. You better give him the run-around before he finds out about your past. He's smitten with you more than Richard was._

"I…" For a first time in her _entire_ life, Uno was truly at a loss for words.

Her breath came in harsh gulps and her heart raced as quickly as it could. Her palms became sweaty and she began to lose feeling in her limbs. Her eyes glazed over in wonder and her head began to throb. She knew that if she didn't get away in time she'd pass out.

But at the same time, she didn't understand what was going on. Erik said the two of them had more in common than she thought. Did that mean he was once marketed as the target by enemies who hated him for no reason but because of his family—or perhaps in his case, wearing a mask? She wouldn't know why but then again, people in this day and age were rude about anyone that looked differently or dressed differently.

But did he hide his true nature behind a darker persona? Did he believe he was alone in the world without anyone to understand him? Does he have any friends who actually cared for him, as she only truly had Charline to care for her? And did he live a lonely life since childhood, never feeling as if he was wanted even if he found a home to stay?

"Uno?" Erik's fingers were beneath her chin suddenly, lifting her face to look up at him. Her vision cleared up some from the heavy blur that had settled over her, and she came to her senses and found she was only mere inches away from Erik's concerned face.

"You are more pale than I have ever seen a creature turn," he muttered. "And I have seen many."

She swallowed hard, never hearing anyone else mention the public's fright about themselves besides herself. Did the public look at him and scream as they did her? When they found she was one of the fighters that were trying to defeat Synodd, they would look down at her, tease her for the age for which she fought, or find she was digusting for even _wanting_ to battle in the bloodshed.

But it wasn't her choice.

None of it was.

It was fight or die. And she was raised as a street rat and the rule on the streets is to fight _or_ die. She was raised by the veterans of the war before her and they believed in the same 'fight or die' beliefs.

Does Erik know where she was coming from?

"Uno?"

"I gotta go," she rushed out.

And before he could mutter another word she was out of his grasp and too far for him to even call out.

-

Uno rushed through the back halls and staircases until she returned to her room. She threw the door opened and closed it as quickly as possible, turned the key and pulled it out of the lock, then spun around and put her back to the door. When she gazed into the mirror she saw her reflection and gasped.

She was crying!

"Oh my God," Uno sputtered out. "I can't believe this."

_Believe it, Uno,_ Zero comforted. _You're not the only one in this world who has lived a hard life. Apparently he has , too._

Uno dropped to the floor and hugged her knees close to her body. She wrapped her arms around her legs and squeezed. Dropping her face into her gown she no longer cared if she wrecked the fabric with her tears. She no longer cared if her sobs were heard through the door and out into the hall. Erik had touched a part in her that she thought she had destroyed if not tucked away as much as possible.

He has struck a nerve in her body that she didn't know existed.

And he didn't do it out of anger or teasing, either! He did it out of curiosity. He did it out of concern.

_He did it out of love._ Uno squinted her eyes and tore her face away from her gown. _You'll see it eventually, Uno,_ Zero confirmed. _But he struck a nerve because you thought you were the only one in the world with this _hideous_ past and he explained that he could relate._

"Duo," Uno sobbed out. "I wish you were here, Duo." She sniffled a few times. "I don't know what to do and you always do at times like this."

_Uno,_ Zero said with comfort. _Stand up, take the costume off, and get ready for bed._

She sniffled again. "Zero—why did I get chosen for this life?"

There was a deep sigh in the back of her mind. _Because you're a survivor, Uno. You're a survivor and you've just come across another one._ She sniffled again. _Now get up and get ready for bed. You have a lot of rehearsing to do tomorrow before the gala._

Uno nodded and wiped her eyes. She pushed herself up and pushed away from the door. When she caught the face of the clock she noticed the time. The ball was just about over anyways; she really should get ready for bed.

"Thank you," she muttered to her reflection, knowing the statement was directed more towards Zero than anything. She turned away from the mirror and stepped up to the armoire, ready to remove the gown and hang it up.

_And Happy Birthday,_ Zero added in. Uno froze and shot her gaze up to the tiny mirror hanging inside one of the amoire doors.

"What?"

_In a few days,_ Zero explained, _you will become sixteen._

"Oh shit."

And oh shit was right. How was she going to keep herself hidden all night when she knew Charline and Meg would want to do something that Halloween night, the corpse de ballet would want to be roudy, and Erik expected opera lessons on the roof? She would have to find a way, place, and time to be alone.

Or else everyone would find out her birthday was on October thirty-first and on the stroke of midnight.

Like the witch Marcella had dubbed her as.


	26. Bullets and Icing 2

**As everyone who has read Duo's Child 1 can recall, Bullets and Icing was the chapter title to her sixth birthday. Now that she's turned sixteen, I figured to call it Bullets and Icing 2, also because it's the second time she's had a birthday within a chapter.**

**I've had tons of stress lately and lots of shit going through my life, so keep in mind I'm still trying to keep this fic alive. I wish I'd have some readers for my other posted stories because I would love to make those into outrageously, amazing fics. But it depends on what YOU like to read, not just what I like to write. I do wish some of you would read my other things, not just this. In time, the start of the series will begin but until then I need to gather more and more of you into this world.**

**Those of you who have read _Blind Passion_ will notice it has been removed. Despite the urging messages about removing them, somebody had reported me and the story, and all 257 reviews, were removed; I didn't even get to back up the reviews, either! In time, I'll repost it on aff and censor it enough for ff, but I HIGHLY doubt I'll be able to gain 257 reviews to match what I lost. I managed to do that for Duo's Child 1 but that was because everyone loved the cute, innocent Uno.**

**I have a list of forums up. If anybody has questions pertaining to Duo's Child, please use the link posted as Gundam Zero on my list. Anything for Mistress Alleycat or Kitty Felone, please use those links. If you would like to say or ask anything else not pertaining to a general topic, use the General link. PLEASE USE MY FORUMS! If you want you can bug me about updating--I don't care!**

**The following songs I don't own and according to my story, were never created: Memorial Address, by Ayumi Hamasaki. Haunted and Field of Innocense, by Evanescence. If you want to know how Uno's voice is when she sings, listen to any of Ayumi Hamasaki's songs and that'll tell you; she doesn't sound like Evanescence unless she's morbid and balling her eyes out when she cries--which as of lately, has been the case. If you need a song of Ayumi Hamasaki, IM me, Email me, or post it in the forums with a way to contact you.**

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-six - 

Uno stopped in her tracks to the café when Priscella and her friends stepped out in front. Frowning down at the ballerinas Uno parted her lips as if to speak but only closed them immediately. If the rat wanted to say something she should have the first chance open.

"Marcella was right," Priscella snarled. "You really _are_ a witch and tonight I'm going to prove it." A gathering of nods from the other girls around followed her statement. Priscella crossed her arms over her chest and sneered. "Today is Halloween and tonight I'm sure your witchcraft will brew."

"We're going to keep a close eye on you," said one of the girls, her yellow teeth indicating she spent too many hours on the streets than with her dancing.

"And if you _are_ a witch we're getting the nearest church to crucify you," said another. Uno frowned at each member of the group before returning back to Priscella.

"I don't understand," she muttered, "if the church _will_ infact, _crucify_ somebody then why haven't they already done it to you several rats?" She received gasps but Uno's frown only deepened. "I mean you're cruel, into trickery, stalky, rude, get people's backs up, you chant things beneath your breath more than I've ever heard _anyone_, and you enjoy going into the medicines room for the nurse"—here she was staring at one of the rats, alone—"so I think you all have me switched with your own reflections, for a change."

"We are not witches!" Priscella barked. "_You're_ the witch that has bewitched the managers with your dance! You bewitched the owner with your voice!"

"You're bewitching with your occusing yell," Uno added in nonchalantly. She received more gasps in the process. Finally, Uno smirked. "Now if you shall _excuse me_," she said on a whim with a bit of a royality tone to her voice, "I've still work to do."

Uno shoved through the gathering of girls and opened the doors to the café. Before she entered she heard Priscella mutter beneath her breath, "Go work on your spells and Hexes, _witch_."

The second the door closed Uno felt like punching the table. "Those girls _never_ give up!" She fumed. "It's as if they're _trying_ to make me into a witch so I can just leave their air of attention."

"They tend to do that," said a voice she hasn't spoken to in a while. Uno paused and gaped around the room, her eyes darting to every possible face nearby—which really was just the barista or the Ballet Mistress.

Uno smirked and chuckled faintly. "Long time."

Madam Giry nodded and extended a hand to the chair across from her. "Take a seat and join me?"

"Sure," Uno said with a decent smile. She bought several different types of pastries, tea, and then claimed the chair across from the older woman.

"So how are you today, Uno?" Madam Giry asked before she took a sip of her coffee. "After last night's performance, I am hoping rather well."

Uno scooped up a pastry and glanced at Madam Giry before taking a bite out of it. "After a fact—yes," she returned. "Priscella and her hoard of whores can't kill my pleasantness today, no matter how close they are going to pray on my feet."

Madam Giry frowned. "They still believe you to be a witch?"

"Sad, isn't it?" Uno retorted. She took a bite of the pastry.

"I don't understand why they continue to believe such things if they don't ever see you doing witchcraft."

Uno shrugged her shoulders. "They're content on finding out tonight if I am or not."

The woman nodded. "Meg and Charline have decided to go shopping this evening. Are you going to join them?"

"I can't," Uno picked up her tea and suspended it in the air. "I have something very important to do."

"More important than spending time with your friends when Priscella is hoping to get you alone?" Uno nodded. "What can it be, then?"

"Besides opera lessons on the roof," Uno murmured. Madam Giry raised her chin defiantly, as if hoping no sparks of war would strike up tonight. "I have some much needed space to take up." Her voice lowered and dripped with a wanton of desire. "Some old business I have to attend to."

The older woman bowed her head and stared at the coffee mug in her hands. "Perhaps tonight will not be a wise choice for an opera lesson," she murmured. Uno paused in chewing another bite to frown over at her. Madam Giry raised her head and inhaled a deep breath. "If Erik were to teach you then tonight can't be a lesson. He has just as many enemies as you, who take him to be evil."

Uno swallowed her barely chewed bite. "So he told you."

She nodded. "That he has. Erik has also mentioned that you are to sing opera at the next gala."

_That_ Uno was _not_ prepared to hear. She choked out her next breath of air, unable to inhale the right amount. Coughing, Uno reached for her tea and gulped down several huge sips before regaining oxygen.

"What?" She gasped. "I'm to sing as an opera-diva for the next gala!"

The woman smiled. "I told him you will be prepared."

"You did _what_!" Uno shot to her feet. The fact of the matter was, she didn't know the first thing about singing opera—hasn't had a lecture _yet_—and the next show would open in two weeks.

Madam Giry held a hand in the air to tell Uno to sit back down. With a comforting gaze set sternly into her eyes, the older woman explained herself.

"I know you are determined to pull off any challenge offered." Uno sat back down and breathed deeply. "You will pull through—I've no doubt about that. What I _do_ fear is if you will be able to handle having a lecture every night for as long as he requires."

Uno hung her head. "Why do people insist things of me?" She muttered beneath her breath. When Uno stared back up into Madam Giry's eyes the older woman saw a bit of a distant sadness lurking behind her violet orbs. "All my life people expected great things of me."

"You are a daring woman who will stop at nothing to achieve just that." The older woman explained. "We all know that if a rat were to bite you would bite back harder. If a voice were to sing angelically, you would sing back like a goddess." Uno frowned at the woman's explanation. "What I am saying, Uno, is that you always force yourself to win whatever duel it is. For that reason, alone, I know you can handle this new task."

"My reputation," Uno murmured. Madam Giry nodded in agreement.

"You've great intelligence and wise decisions," she explained. "I know you will pull through just fine."

"Philosophy will clip an angel's wings," Uno breathed out. The woman frowned. "One of John Keats favorite quotes."

"Uno?"

"Everyone thinks I'm perfect and because of that, I've no where to go after death." Madam Giry frowned and pushed back in her chair. "I've done some horrible things to be sent to any Heaven and not enough bad to be sent to any Hell."

"There is only one Heaven and one Hell, Uno."

Uno snorted. "Not in China—they have seven levels of Hell." She stared into the woman's older eyes and gave a weak smile in return. "As Shakespeare once said, 'Few love to hear the sins they love to act'."

"What are you referring to?" The woman sounded on edge then. "That I have yet to speak about the negative aspect for which I have done?"

"No," Uno breathed out. "Nothing—forget it." She hung her head. "I'm just not doing so well, today."

"What is the matter, Uno?" Madam Giry reached across the table to grasp one of Uno's hands. "You have barely touched your meal and you are very down."

"I can't tell you," she murmured.

"Uno," the woman began, "out of every student I have ever taught you are the only one I know can handle anything. To a point I can relate to how you are, today, because of who I have become since I was your age." Uno raised her head to stare into the warm eyes of her Ballet Mistress. "I was not always a hard woman, Uno. Like my daughter, I was once a ballerina who had thought of somethings nearly impossible to achieve. I was once giggly and flirtatious."

Uno frowned. "So what happened?"

Madam Giry breathed a deep sigh and pulled back. "I found somebody who needed help. I helped him hide from the world because he was pointed out as a monster and I had to help keep him secret." She turned and frowned over at Uno. "That alone forced me to mature more than my age would say, since I had a huge secret to maintain."

"Go on."

Madam Giry straightened her back and stared down at the table between them. "Then later when I got older," she breathed out, "I fell in love. I figured he loved me as well for he asked for my hand in marriage."

Uno frowned. "What happened?"

The older woman frowned over at her student, brows creasing together. "A day before our supposed wedding, he ran off with another woman." Uno's lips parted in aw but the woman wasn't finished yet. "Several months later I gave birth to Meg."

"And that's why," Uno began, "you are always cautious of the men Meg attracts." The woman nodded. "You are afraid of Meg falling into the same path as you."

Madam Giry breathed a great sigh of relief. "I later learnt that he was murdered." Her eyes trailed to the wall and to a small mirror hanging just above a counter. "They never found the murderer but they found the woman he was with—she was in shock and could only mutter a few descriptions."

Uno leaned in closer. "What were the descriptions?" She almost wanted to assume it was Jack the Ripper—but they weren't in England so she knew it couldn't be possible.

Madam Giry heaved a sigh. "Ghaslty masked man."

Uno frowned. "Did they ever find him?" Madam Giry's eyes slowly trailed from the table between them to the violet, stunned orbs of the girl across from her. Staring into Uno's eyes was like staring into her own; she saw years of heartbreak, secrecy, and blood behind those depths.

"They haven't," Madam Giry returned softly, "but I have."

"What did you do?"

It was several long moments before Madam Giry could mutter a reply. Uno was so intent on learning about this incident that happened many years ago that the older woman wasn't entirely sure she was ready to know. Even though Uno could handle more than the average _man_ could handle, Madam Giry still wasn't sure if she should learn the truth behind the theater just yet.

"I thanked him," she replied as close to the truth as she would allow.

Uno frowned. "Thanked him?"

"I knew who he was and I went to him and thanked him." Madam Giry raised her chin and squared her shoulders back. "He has helped me since by staying in the shadows and watching over me—and my daughter."

"Oh." Uno stared down at her lap. "I see." But really, she didn't have a clue, still, of who this man was.

Madam Giry sighed suddenly. "Oh, how many torments lie in the small circle of a wedding'," she breathed out. Uno glanced a puzzled look at her. "Colley Cibber said that."

"Ah," Uno smirked suddenly. "I see—you enjoy quoting as well as I."

Madam Giry smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "You are not the only woman who enjoys a few common words of interest."

"Or intelluect," Uno added in. The older woman smirked then started to get up. "You're going?"

"I have a few errans to run."

"Into that witchcraft, are we?" Uno murmured with a wicked grin.

"Uno," Madam Giry pressed both of her fists on her hips and frowned down at the sarcastic grin of the girl she can relate most to. "Of all people I am devastated to hear that coming from you."

Uno chuckled darkly and picked up her tea. "Well then I suppose I'll see you tonight by the witching circle," she said, her voice dripping with sarcastic humor.

The older woman smirked and managed to release a tiny chuckle. "Until then, my dear, I think you must practice for tonight's chantation."

Uno chuckled. "Until then, _ma Cheri_."

Madam Giry bowed her head and left Uno to finish her meal in silence.

-

_After Colony 210_

_Calendar years: 4515_

"Alright so tonight we'll discuss the plans," Justin's voice came in through the command link. Mandy smiled and batted her lashes at him and Justin paused, realizing she already had plans. "Oh… he's coming over again?"

"You know how Vincent and I still chase each other," Mandy said, her voice as sweet as can be. "We have to keep it secret, though, since I don't want the media to get a hold of it."

Justin nodded and glanced down in thought. "I would think Vincent would try taking you someplace else."

"Well he tried," Mandy glanced down. "But his generals spotted him and it got nasty after that." She smirked back up at her old, one-time comrade. "We wound up talking about policies rather than our date."

Justin chuckled. "That sounds like the two of ya."

Mandy shrugged and blew a few stray blonde strands out of her face. "So we decided to keep the meetings in my office."

"Meetings," Justin snorted. "Afraid you'll be tapped?"

"Justin!" Mandy choked out. She gaped at his grinning face. "Watch what you say or I'll…"

"You'll what?" Justin teased. "Send Vincent's army on me? Denounce my title? Have Chris kick me out of the mansion?" Mandy fumed and crossed her arms. "Either way—none of you know how to hack as I can."

"What are you saying?" She frowned. "That you'll torture us until you get what you deserved?"

Justin shrugged. "Or I'll just erase every file that Uno offered to your names."

Mandy narrowed her eyes but then changed her expression as the thoughts in her head changed paths. She breathed a sigh and turned to stare out the window.

"So have you heard anything yet?" She asked him with a sullen voice. Justin's humor faded and he glanced down.

"No."

Mandy nodded in agreement. "Vincent's in the French Territory right now. One of his European generals was going over a few plans of reconstructing old buildings."

Justin frowned. "Why do they need him? Most of the French Territory was ruined in the thirtieth century by the recovery of the old English Government," he explained. "Why would Vincent be needed over there?"

Mandy shrugged her shoulders and turned back to him. "There was a brawl amongst some of the soldiers and one of them fell into a stream that was flowing rapidly. The current took him away and when he called back on the communicator he was in some tunnel." Justin frowned. "Vincent said the general called it an underground river."

Justin gasped. "The Sien River," he muttered aloud.

Mandy nodded and glanced down at her desk. "When the team went to the direction his tracer had pointed him out they found an old building that served many purposes in its prime." She chewed the inside of her cheek and frowned up at her old war partner. "With the way the building was built it's no wonder it managed to last all these millennia's."

"How was it built?"

"Several layers of basements—the lowest having a house," she added in before continuing. "And several layers above. He hasn't gone through it much yet but he's found that it was reconstructed at least twice in its lifetime."

"Vincent doesn't know what it was used for?"

Mandy turned to Justin. "He said it was the Opera Populaire," she said softly.

Justin frowned and stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Sounds about right—but then that means that was before the colonies were introduced to the public."

"Justin," Mandy cut in. Justin glanced back at her. "He hasn't looked into it much yet but…"

Justin's brows creased as she trailed off. "But what?"

"One of his men sworn they found a framed picture of the theater's most famous singer." His head tilted to the side and to keep from noticing his soon-to-be-shocked expression she turned away entirely. "There was a long braid hanging behind her gown."

Justin gasped. "Uno!"

Mandy closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Justin—I think we found the residence Uno lived in but no proof of what happened to her. The theater looked like a ruin and his men say that it's been that way for centuries."

"The Opera Populaire—I'm going to find out as much as I can about it." Mandy frowned up at him.

"Justin I don't think you should do that," she muttered aloud. "What if you find details out that should be better left untold?"

"But what if I find where Uno was buried when she died?" Justin countered. "What if I find out that Uno had managed to survive and jump to another time?"

Mandy's brows furrowed and she gritted her teeth in challenge. Inhaling a deep breath, she jumped to her feet and snarled into the communication screen. "And _what_ if you find articles talking about Uno's murder?" Justin froze in slight fear. "In this time she was known as the true Goddess of Death and the Queen of humanity—but if she tried to survive in _those_ times she could very well be considered doomed because they didn't know our medical skills, weaponry skills, or whatever we now know."

Justin's gaping mouth told her she had hit the right spot to attack. "Justin," Mandy cooled, "Uno is a survivor but what if somebody found out about her past? Uno had herself fixed to where she couldn't have children—she's got _thousands_ of scars covering her body, and she doesn't have the personality of a loving creature."

"What are you saying, Mandy?" Justin breathed out. "That Uno was doomed to be wherever she happened to land?"

She sat back down and heaved a great sigh. "I'll have Vincent look into it but I can't promise you any good details." She looked up to see Justin's shimmering blue eyes, slowly filling with tears. "Justin I'm sorry but even _if_ we find out if she managed to live a decent life or was killed off by some unsuspecting, foul creature—what can you do about it? You live in forty-five-fifteen," Mandy paused to let the pain wash over Justin equally before continuing. "And Vincent said the date of the painting was eighteen-seventy-three."

His head snapped up to her. "What did you say?"

"She was transported to the time of eighteen-seventy-three," Mandy repeated with soft determination. "That's before even the telephone was invented."

"Eighteen-seventy-three," Justin muttered. He glanced down and repeated the year under his breath.

"Justin," Mandy said aloud, "you're not going to find a way to contact her." Justin stared at her with determination in his eyes. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together firmly.

But Mandy didn't even let his intimidation startle her for a moment. Squaring her shoulders back and lifting her chin she took a deep breath and spoke in the same serious tone she would use to speak out as the queen she had become.

"I won't allow it."

"You can't stop me," Justin said darkly. "I can erase your files of even existing, _Queen_ Mandy," his voice dripped with sarcasm when he said 'queen'.

Her eyes narrowed. "And I can have Vincent's armies trace you down and kill you."

"Why are you so intent on leaving Uno in the past?" Justin barked. "Are you hoping she stays there so you don't ever have to give up your job as queen?" Mandy gasped. "It's as if you're terrified of Uno's return—of the _real_ heir's return!"

"Justin Stevens!" She shouted. "How can you assume such a thing from _me_?"

His eyes narrowed and his voice darkened with his words. "Because the possibility of leaving your comrades out to dry never crossed your mind until you were givin all the power in the world." Mandy's face softened as she realized the truth behind his words. "If I recalled the first time we ever _met_ Uno, you had asked her to take you to Doctor Mason's so he could snip your tubes. On the way back she got shot up and nearly killed herself to get you to safety. She destroyed the van as she plowed through the forest and barged into the cabin, practically dead already, to let us know that you needed help as well." Mandy hung her head in shame.

"Even though Uno hated us and didn't want us to fight alongside with her, she still protected us because she knew we were innocent civilians at one point in our lives and were manipulated into fighting the war. She had no choice but to fight because Synodd had _always_ been trying to kill her." Justin's eyes turned to glance at a photograph that hung on the wall behind Mandy; it was an image of the five of them gathered together—it was a newspaper clipping about the rebels. "And if I remember correctly, Chris once told me you even offered to give her your blood when you learnt she nearly died from that drive-by shooting and blood loss."

"Alright," Mandy whispered, "you win."

Justin's voice took on a hard edge. "Have Vincent look into the details of the theater and I'm going to work on a program that may allow me to be sent to her." Mandy raised her head to stare at him in shock. "If Uno had made a vortext happen when she exploded her Gundam and been sent to another time, it may be possible to repeat her actions."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"The same way she did," he explained. "Have the Tallgeese, Zero, and Epyon system self explode all at once."

Mandy frowned. "What if it doesn't work?"

Justin shrugged his shoulders. "In the words of Patrick Henry, 'Give me liberty or give me death'."

The comlink died.

-

_Calendar years: 1873_

Erik stayed behind as he followed his newest pupil around on the streets of Paris. Usually people would turn and stare at him but he was certain to wear his newest mask. Out of all his masks, he had taken one of his ordinary white half-masks and painted it as close to his fair skintone as possible.

The only people to stare at him were the ones who noticed the difference of the texture of his face to the mask.

But even they didn't stare for long the moment they cought sight of his beady eyes.

He frowned when she turned down an alley. Standing at the other side he watched as she started walking through it without a care for any possible attacks. He glanced sharply at the busy street before stepping into the ally behind her.

-

Uno wandered through the crowded streets of the early afternoon, huming an old song she had made when she was younger. She faintly recalled the lyrics of the song but never forgot the words; after all, she made it the moment she found out Ricky was her enemy.

Uno turned onto another shopping street and continued her way down the path, minding her own business.

"_Munasawagi to tomo ni nemuri ni tsuita yofuke,_" she whispered out, "_Totemo kanashii yume o miteita no o oboeteru… sono asa yokan wa chinmoku o yaburu youni, naridashita denwa de genjitsu no mono to natta, kokoro ni kienai kizuato o nokoshita… mama,_" Uno turned down an alley she knew would help her cut her time heading back to the theater. (Translation from Japanese: "I remember I went to sleep late that night feeling uneasy And had a very sad dream The phone started to ring in the morning, breaking the silence And the premonition became a reality Leaving an unfading scar on my heart You became a star by yourself."

"_Anata wa hitori hoshi ni natta_. _Sayonara ne, mou nidoto, aenai basho e itta none, eien no, wakare no, tsumetasa o—uketomerarezu ni, kikasete, hoshikatta, uso de kamawanai kara, atashi wa, anata ni,_" Uno's voice raised to a little above a whisper as she went on. "_Tashikani aisarete itatte. Tatta ichido de iikara…_" Her voice trailed off. (Translation from Japanese: "Sayonara --- You have gone to the place where we can never meet again I can't accept the coldness of the eternal parting I wish I could have heard from you That I had certainly been loved by you Only once, even if it had been a lie.")

There were no bums in the alley she walked through so Uno felt no fear about raising her voice to a common vocal cord to sing the rest of the song. "_Owari naki hazu no, kanashimi wa maku o tojite, kisetsu mo kawatte samusa ga yakeni mi ni shimiru kedo,_" her voice raised to a higher octave and her angelic vocals kicked into gear. From her next verse and on, Uno's voice remained neutral in tone as her singing practiced. (Translation from Japanese: "The sorrow I had thought to be endless came to an end The season has changed, I feel bitterly cold.")

"_Are wa wasure mo shinai, natsu no hajimari no hi de. Atashi no kawari ni kotoshi wa sora ga naki tsuzuketa—datte amarinimo yume no, tsuzuki no youde… mada… naku koto sae mo dekinai mama._" A grin formed on her face. "_Sayonara ne, saigo no, kotoba sae todokanai. Wakare no… tsumetasa o… iyatte hodo, omoishirasareru. Kikasete, hoshikatta, uso de—kamawanai kara, sugoshita, ano hi o, kuyandari shitenaindatte—tatta ichido de, iikara,_" her voice trailed off as her strong vocals kept it going. As her voice continued to die away on key she switched octaves to multiple levels at a time, a task many polished divas from around the world and throughout time always struggled to do. (Translation from Japanese: "I will never forget that first day of summer The sky kept on weeping instead of me this year I feel as if I were living in the continuation of the dream And I can't even cry now. Sayonara --- Even my last words don't reach you I'm made to realize the coldness of the parting I wish I could have heard from you That you never regretted the days we had spent together Only once, even if it had been a lie.")

"_Doushite souyatte, saigo no saigo made, nee… omoide dake o, oiteku no— sayonara ne, mou nidoto, aenai basho e itta none. Eien no, wakare no, tsumetasa o—uketomerarezu ni. Kikasete, hoshikatta, uso de kamawanai kara, atashi wa, anata ni, tashikani aisarete itatte. Tatta ichido de iikara,_" she let her voice trail off once again. (Translation from Japanese: "Why did you do it this way Leaving memories only to the very end? Sayonara --- You have gone to the place where we can never meet again I can't accept the coldness of the eternal parting  
I wish I could have heard from you That I had certainly been loved by you Only once, even if it had been a lie")

This time, when Uno came to the next line, she returned to her previous whispering. "_Kore wa tada no yume no—tsuzuki no monogatari de. __Atashi wa mada me—ga, sametenai dake to itte._" (Translation from Japanese: "Please tell me this is only the story of the continuing dream And that I'm not yet awake.")

Uno exited the alley just as her voice died away. She looked both ways of the busy street before crossing, hoping to not get ran over by a fast carriage.

-

Erik was standing in a darkened corner of the alley when he watched Uno cross the street and retreat to the theater. His mouth was gaping open and his eyes stared only at the figure who walked quickly, crossing paths with a carriage.

Only seconds ago she was signing with a common tone to her voice, words he couldn't decifer. He knew Arabic, English, French, Italian, and a little Spanish—but he didn't know what language _she_ was speaking. He wished he could have understood her words so he would be able to understand what she was saying but it was no use even trying.

She not only spoke them _perfectly_ but she sang them fast. It was as if she was born with the knowledge of both English _and_ that other language. She also sang with an ability to use her vocals chords that he didn't think _anyone_, save him, could do!

Uno truly was a fascination he found he had become obsessed with.

When she was inside the building he stepped out of the alley and stole a glance in every direction. The sun was still high above him, indicting that night was several hours away, and he wasn't sure if he should return to the confines of his home yet or not. He never was one to take to the streets as often as he had become to, but he has learned that learning society's moves was a good thing.

It taught him what to look out for.

Instead of following Uno to the Opera Populaire, Erik turned down the street and headed towards one of Paris's music stores. He figured he could get more music parchment so he could give Uno something to practice with when she began learning to sing.

-

It was only mid afternoon and Uno didn't know what to do. All over the theater the corpse de ballet were planning their night and preparing to 'hunt down the ghosts' that they feel are haunting the building. Charline was somewhere with Meg—probably out with Christine—and Uno had the serenity to be by herself.

Finally.

Only now she was entirely bored.

She collapsed onto the settee in her dressing room and heaved a loud sigh. There was nothing to sing, nothing to rehearse, nothing to do. She figured she would walk the streets but found out that hardly took any time at all. She wound up coming back when it was about two in the afternoon. Laying down, Uno contemplated her choices for the rest of the day. Around night fall she would take to a secluded area and remain alone in secret so she can celebrate her birthday, but until then she was free.

_Happy Birthday, Uno,_ Zero had said. _You are _finally_ sixteen._

Uno rolled her eyes. "And I feel like I'm in my late twenties," she retorted.

_Do you wish to not be sixteen?_

"What can I do? I already know how to drive—but alas, they don't drive yet!" She rolled her eyes. "I'm not married and everyone makes it a big deal to be married at fifteen."

_You don't marry for good reasons,_ Zero reminded her. _Better not try to send another child to live your fate._

Uno snorted. "I can't have kids, anyways." She commented. "Even if I wanted to."

_Well then what are you upset about?_

"Oh shut up," she scoffed out. Her eye caught something from under her bed and after releasing a chuckle, she said, "Good—something to do."

Uno crawled up to the bed and pulled out the puzzle she had bought several weeks—about a month or two—ago. It had yet to be open and she kind of felt bad that she had forgotten about it. The woman was curious about selling her the puzzle and Uno still hasn't even bothered to give it a shot.

Glancing quickly up at the clock in the room she shrugged her shoulders. "Why not? Not like I have something better to do."

About four hours later Uno realized she had only gotten half way complete.

"Fucking hell!" Zero was laughing in the back of her head. "Why the fuck can't I complete this thing!"

_Oh… does it look like the great Uno Maxwell can't complete a dinky puzzle in less than a few hours?_ Uno growled. _She's actually having trouble with this?_

"This does _not_ make sense," Uno growled. "I have completed Ricky's million piece puzzle in under a week—I have solved Sarah's puzzle box in under a day," she explained. "Hell—Duo and Hildie bought me puzzle after puzzle and I solved those within hours!"

_And yet you can't solve this little fraction of a puzzle?_ Uno frowned down at a tricky corner are. Half the puzzle was completed and various spots were left to fill in—but that's what was so hard about it.

"Some pieces look like they can connect in other places," she muttered. "But they don't!"

_Take a break_, Zero offered.

"No!" Uno snapped. "I _refuse_ to take a break!" Zero laughed. "I _refuse_ to give up! I _refuse_ to put this away until I can come back to it later on!"

_You're hungry—aren't you?_

"Oh hell with it." Uno said suddenly. She got up and charged for the door, her stomach beginning to growl. "I need food."

_Baka_, Zero scoffed out.

"Hn."

All throughout dinner Uno sat alone at the table. Meg and Charline were apparently still with Christine, the ballet rats were already beginning their night, and she was the only one in the café. After a huge bowl of soup, a few somewhat stale pastries, and a large glass of tea Uno had enough energy in her to return to the puzzle.

And by God she finished it after a good three hours more.

"Good God," she spat aloud in a huge sigh. Uno stole a glance at the clock. "Ten at night—_finally_ I finished this thing!"

_You've gotten slow,_ Zero muttered.

"Shaddup," Uno grumbled. "I'm not stupid—this is just a harder puzzle than I expected."

_Baka_.

"Shut—" A loud crash outside the door caught her off guard. Uno frowned and stood up. She went to the door and opened it to see several ballet rats on the other side, suddenly shocked to see the diva in the room.

"Uno!" One of the rats said with shock on her face. "We thought you were out with Meg and Charline."

Uno stared at the girl then turned to her friends. Amongst the crowd was the sneering form of Priscella. Heaving a deep breath, Uno crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin.

"Priscella," Uno murmured. "Witch hunting, are we?"

Priscella narrowed her eyes. "Watch your tongue, _witch_."

"Don't you think it's wise to tell your followers what happened to the last group of girls who tried chasing me down?" Several of the girls backed away and turned to their leader. "Or do you wish to repeat history and let them disappear into the depths of Hell, as well?"

"Priscella?" One girl whispered. "What is she talking about?"

Priscella balled her fists. "Curve your tongue," she seethed out. "Or I shall curve it for you."

Uno nodded her head lightly. "We shall see about that." She turned back to her door, locked it, and then closed it. Returning to the leader, Uno closed the gap between the two and stared eye-to-eye with the crude wrench. "We shall see."

"I dare you to attack me," Priscella said coolly. "You will see that I am descendant of royal blood. You will be in trouble if I am killed."

"That hasn't stopped me before," Uno warned with a soft voice. "Where I come from, I am Queen of all humanity and I rule every breath anyone takes. If I want, I can kill you and get away with it." She paused and frowned off to the side. "I'm what you would call, the Anti-Christ—'cept I'm a woman."

Uno sent a bone-chilling grin to her enemy before turning away entirely. Behind her she heard Priscella breathing deeply and erratically, mildly scared but certain to keep it hidden from her fellow ballet rats.

Uno continued heading towards the cafe. The café was empty and Uno glanced around. Some of the pastries from earlier that day still remained untouched on the countertop and after climbing over the counter to reach the other side, she found a single, tiny candle stashed away somewhere on a shelf. There was a cinnabun before her, all alone, sitting on the counter and she substituted it for a cupcake.

After sticking the candle into the top of the cinnabun, she climbed back over the counter, took the pastry, and left the café in search of her secluded space. The weather outside was practically chilly. It wasn't snowing but from how white her breathe was Uno knew that it would snow if the temperature were to drop just a little more. The sky was as clear as possible and over a billion stars shown down on her. The scenery was magnificent with the city of Paris lit up in its wake.

Even though it was Halloween Paris still acted as if it were just a common day.

"And do think we used to treat it just as shallow," Uno muttered to herself.

She stood alone on the rooftop and tensed her back as the cold began pricking at her skin. She took a few more steps before sitting down on the icy stone floor and placed the cinnabun down in front of her. Uno heaved a sigh and glanced around at the view before her then back down at the pastry.

She stifled a smirk. "A pastry cupcake," she retorted. "What this turned out to be."

A sharp pain stabbed her heart just then, reminding her of the joke she once shared with her old boyfriend.

"_Ricky… what is this?" Uno glanced down at his cupped hands where an overly iced up cinnabun sat with a wildly burning candle on top of it. When the doorbell rang Uno raced down to get it, hoping to scare the kids who always came to the mansion for the expensive candy with her semi-automatic rifle and painted-up zombie appearance, but in turn it was only another perfectionist on the other side._

_Grinning, Ricky held up the stick pastry. "Happy birthday, Baby!"_

_Uno frowned and stared him in the eyes. "You're going to burn yourself, you twit." She stepped aside to let him in. "You better go put that down."_

_Ricky shrugged his shoulders. "Not like I'm not used to getting burned," he mumbled. "Johnson's girlfriends are always setting something on fire in my room."_

_Uno nodded her head slowly, shut the door, then pointed down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. "Kitchen, now," she demanded._

_Ricky pouted and held up his hands. "Make a wish?"_

_She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine—I'll wish I'll kill you." He chuckled. "Now get to the kitchen before my boyfriend becomes Fried Chicken."_

"_Oh!" He gasped. "So you say I'm a chicken? And yet, I'm holding a burning and melting cinnabun in my hands for the girl I love?"_

"_Ricky Tanners," Uno growled. "Do as I say or—"_

"_Or what?" He cut in with a grin. "You'll kick me, bite me, or scratch at my body? You'll pin me to the wall and kick my ass? Or perhaps you'll pin me to the wall and stroke my body." He winked at her but Uno wasn't impressed. Her stare remained nonchalant._

"_I'll smash that _cupcake_ into your face, lit candle and all."_

_He laughed. "Some girlfriend—throwing around food that I bought for her." Uno turned him away from her and began pushing him down the hallway. Ricky stopped and turned to her in shock. "And you just called this a cupcake!"_

_Uno shook her head. "Cinnabun—same thing."_

_His mouth was ajar. "You messed up!"_

"_Shut up."_

"_You actually screwed up in something!"_

"_Shut up."_

"_Uno Maxwell actually—"_

_Uno took the cinnabum out of his hands, the flaming candle and all, and smashed it into his face. Ricky stood there, nonchalant, and stared at her as the dripping cinnabun slid down his face and body and left behind a sticky residue._

_Uno stared him back in the eyes then began grinning._

"_You look so adorable with food on your face," she said through a giggle. She leant in and licked off some of the icing from his lips before turning away entirely, his eyes glaring after her._

Uno heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. She hung her head and sulked.

"If only you were here," she mumbled. "You and I could finally live in peace if you somehow go delivered to this era."

Uno softly shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body. Not much of the cool temperature affected her after the enhancement was completed but she could still feel the degrees hitting her flesh. After another huge sigh, Uno opened her eyes and repeated his name in a whisper.

"Ricky."

-

Erik breathed deeply and stared up at the stars above him. He was agitated, no doubt about it. First he had woken abruptly when he felt ink dripping all down his face and realized he fell asleep while composing his music, again. Then he found that, since it was Halloween, all the ballet rats were running amuck—he hated Halloween. And then Madam Giry had insisted he stay away from Uno this night because with Priscella's crowd keeping a close eye on her, if she were caught with the famous Opera Ghost, not only would her reputation die immediately, she would learn of his true nature.

So he agreed to not meet with the diva this night for a lesson and went out to the roof, in the cold weather, to settle his nerves.

Right when he was about to get up the door opened and he turned to see exactly who he was told not to see, stepping out into the chilly night air. He smirked.

"It appears fate can't seem to keep us apart," Erik mumbled to himself.

He watched Uno glanced around at her surroundings before taking a seat in a random spot on the floor. He frowned when he noticed she set down in front of her a cinnabun with a candle on top of it, and then gasped as the knowledge struck a nerve.

"It's her birthday," he muttered softly before smirking. "Happy Birthday, you wretched creature."

Uno hung her head and heaved a sigh and Erik waited several long minutes before she picked her head back up.

"Long… lost… words… whisper slowly, to me," she said in a dark voice. "Still… can't… find… what keeps me here." Erik leaned closer towards the edge and listened to the diva's deep, bass voice. Her voice raised a little as she continued with, "When all… this… time, I've been so hallow… inside."

He frowned when she clenched her eyes shut, balled her fists, and leaned forward. "Watching me," she screamed out, "wanting me! I can feel you pull me down!" Erik gaped at her.

_She _knows_ I'm following her!_ His breath caught in his throat. _This witch can sense me!_

"Fearing you," she continued, "loving you! I won't let you pull me down!"

Erik's breath caught in his throat and his body felt numb all over. _Love?_ He swallowed hard and glanced down at his lap. _Uno loves me?_

When Uno continued to sing, her bass voice returned only this time much louder than before. "Hunting… you—I can smell you… alive," she heaved a sigh. "Your… heart—pounding in my head."

He faced her again. _Impossible… _how_ does she know? _No_ body knows!_

"Watching me! Wanting me! I can feel you pull me down!" She swallowed then continued to scream out. "Saving me! Raping me! Watching _me_!" She let the word die out on a long, loud note.

With her eyes closed, Uno sang out a long note and jumped octaves. "I can _feel_ you pull me down!" She sang out again before finishing up another verse of her song. "I won't let you hold me down!"

Erik stood up immediately and inhaled a deep breath. His nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing down on the ballet rat below him, he raised his chin and squared his shoulders back.

_If she thinks I am doing any such thing to her then perhaps she shall see just what happens when the Phantom really _does_ plan to keep his jewls to himself._

A low growl erupted from his throat. Forcing it back down, as to not let the witch below him sense his presence, he turned on his heels, twirling his cape, and jumped from the statue to the veranda on a lower level of the building.

"I'll show that _rat_ just what happens if she really wishes to be chained," he seethed out.

-

Uno released a deep breath and opened her eyes. Still staring out at the black scenery that proved to be a magnificent sight, she sulked when other times she would have been happy. Stars littered the sky and shop lights glowered in the distances.

"I can't… I can't get out of it," she murmured. "It's like I'm stuck in the past and I can't learn to move on." She glanced down at the cinnabun. "Why were you so set to kill me, Ricky? Why did you want to get rid of me?" She closed her eyes and whispered, "I love you."

"But now I feel like I'm being torn from all sides." Uno opened her eyes and glanced up at the statue of Apollo's steed and frowned. "I love you so much but Justin has also filled up my heart, besides you." She paused and lowered her gaze to the floor before realizing something new. "And now I think I've started to fall for somebody else."

Uno stared up at the sky and at the millions of stars littering the black ceiling above her, shining down like tiny flash-lights in a vastly darkened cave. "I hardly even know him, I rarely even see him, and he's been stuck in my head ever since I first met him." She glanced back out at the horizon and lost herself in her train of thoughts. "All I know is that Erik's a patron of the Opera and he lives beneath it in a cave. He's as much as genius as I am and he's not one to be doublecrossed—so why did he affect me if I hardly even know him?"

"Duo wouldn't be so satisfied with me if he's learned I've fallen for three guys," she continued on. "He's upset that Ricky's constantly tried to kill me. Justin is trying to protect me but I never let him—so he'd be upset about that. And now Erik. I don't know who this guy really is, how old he is, or anything and I've already fallen for him—Duo would certainly have my head for jumping around so much." She closed her eyes and whimpered. "I just wish I could start over, with Theresa right besides me, and Ricky still close by."

Tears threatened to fill her eyes and despite how many times she blinked them back, the burning only got stronger. With a voice as deep as bass again, Uno began to sing. "I still remember the world, from the eyes of a child. Slowly those feelings are clouded by what I know now." Uno closed her eyes and lolled her head backwards to allow the tears to fall from the sides of her eyes. "Where has my heart gone? An uneven trade for the _real_ world!" She sniffled and hung her head. "I want to go back to… believeing in everything—not knowing nothing at all."

She heaved a huge sigh, opened her eyes, and stared out at the horizon, lost once more in her own thoughts. "I still remember the sun—always warm on my back. Somehow it seems, colder now!" Her eyes shut. "Where has my heart gone? Trapped in the eyes of a stranger! I want to go back to, believing in everything!"

More tears fell down her face and upon opening her eyes, the scenery began nothing more than a crystallized, disfigured sight in her eyes. She sniffled back the following tears but didn't bother to wipe them away as they cascaded down her cheek.

"Where has my heart gone? An uneven trader for the _real_ world! I want to go back to, believing in everything—_away_! Oh where has my heart gone? Trapped in the eyes of a _stranger_! Oh I want to go back to—believing in everything!" Her voice faded away to a whisper as she finished her song. "I still remember…"

Her head now hanging, Uno sniffled back several more tears that threatened to fall. She stared down at the cinnabun, removed the matches from the nape of her neck, and lit the little candle. After tucking the box of matches away again she heaved a sigh and stared into the flames.

"Duo," she whispered. "I miss you. I know I said this as you died, that I love you, but I don't think you fully heard me. I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Duo." After swallowing she managed to squeak out her following statement. "I'm so sorry for hitting you—but you made me mad. You left me alone to fight the war, to spend four months in a closet, and without thinking I pushed you away from me when you were only trying to help me."

"I'm so sorry Duo. I love you so much and wish you were here with me. I don't know what to do anymore—I'm stuck and I can't go on." Uno whimpered as a few more tears began falling. "Ricky haunts my dreams. Theresa, I feel her ghost is always following me around, somehow. The wars are still fresh in my mind—I can't escape any of this. How do I escape this? How did you escape this?"

Uno swallowed hard and forced a smile to her face. "I hope I'll get to see you again, Duo. And soon, too. I love you a lot, Duo." She stifled a smirk. "Even _if_ you're more of an asshole than I can ever dream of becoming." Uno heaved a loud sigh then wiped the tears away from her face. Staring down at the wicked flame with a grin, she made her wish. "I wish… that I can put this all behind me so that I can move on and live a happy, normal life."

She closed her eyes and blew out the flame.

"Happy birthday, Uno," came a voice that she's heard only once before, but from somewhere she couldn't quite place.

She opened her eyes and raised her head. Slowly turning around she saw a man standing a little more than four feet away from her, his strawberry-brown raggedy hair, long pointy ears, and beady black eyes. On high alert, Uno shot to her feet and stood her grounds. She hated appearing vulnerable, showing how she's actually cried and was spotted like that, but if this guy was a threat she would not let him live to tell the tale.

But after staring at his face for a good several moment she _sworn_ she has seen him somewhere before.

But where?

"You've finally made it to sixteen," he continued with a voice somewhat like a young man's.

Her eyes narrowing, Uno flared her lips and nostrils as her brows creased together. "Who are you?" She balled her fists. "And how did you know my birthday's today and that I turned sixteen?"

The man only grinned, his perfect white teeth beneath glistening like pearls on a tarnished, oiled sea shell. "Isn't it obvious, yet?"

"Get talking," she growled out.

"Where you have seen me before—though only once," he explained. "I figured your memory was better than this. _Especially_ when it was a confusing dream before you killed La Marcella."

A cold sweat ran down her spine but Uno didn't pay attention to the words he said before the mentioning of Marcella's death. "How did you know?" She whispered out in shock.

The man gawked at her as if she had grown two heads. "I was there, Uno," he explained. "I watched it all happen. I witnessed how you broke each finger. After all, if I didn't force you after her, you'd be condemned as a witch and already burned at the stake."

She frowned. "What?"

The man crossed his muscular arms over one another. "Do you not recall the dream you had when Charline finally healed from her poison?"

Another cold sweat bathed Uno's entire figure. Her spine tingled in mild fear and her knees became numb. She attempted to swallow back the lodge that had gotten stuck in her throat but to no avail. She tried balling her fists but her grip was too weak. The world around her began to spin and her violet eyes widened as realization struck her very core.

"Oh my God," Uno breathed out.

The man smiled genuinely and bowed his head. "It's about time, Uno. You've managed to get slow without the constant training or battling of the wars. I guess, lately, you're competition hasn't been enough to make up for it all."

"Turok."

* * *

**Wicked cliffhanger, eh? If you don't remember him, check back to the beginning of chapter 19, titled: Mistress of Vengeance.**


	27. Insanity

**Yes this chapter's title is called 'Insanity'. If you read it, you'll find out why. It's quite humorous and to those who know about Duo's Child 1, you'll recall many parts in here. Anyone remember where all those odd dreams happened, when all the guys had the same dream or when Duo had that dream that COULD HAVE happened? Yeah--it's made notion of.**

**Prepare for lotsa' laughs.**

**And in due time, you'll find out the true history behind this series (Gundam Zero, not just Duo's Child).**

* * *

- Twenty-Seven -

"I don't get it," she murmured. "How can you be here?"

"There are still ways," Turok mumbled, looking around at his surroundings.

"No," she spat back. He frowned and turned back to her. "There isn't. You're from the future where science ruled the world."

He nodded. "Yeah—so?"

"So tell me the truth," Uno growled. Her fists balled at the sides. "How did you come here?"

Turok stared at her in silence. Suddenly, a smirk formed on his lips and a sparkle of interest shown in his eyes. "Brilliant, Uno."

She froze. "Wha?"

"Not only do you snarl at people for no apparent reason," he explained, "but you do it so quickly without thinking."

"Don't play coy with me! Tell me how you got to be here!"

Turok glanced down at his claws and chuckled. "Use that brain of yours," he ordered. "It was enhanced for a reason."

Uno frowned. "How… did you…? Who _are_ you?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I thought you'd be smarter than Morris, what with my help and all, but I guess I was proved wrong."

Uno cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"I mean," he continued like she hadn't spoken, "I figured you'd take more after your mother with the enhancements but I guess your father's genetics were stronger than Blassimeer had originally planned."

Uno slowly nodded her head and took a step backwards. She held up her hands into the air to separate the distance between them. "Alright," she murmured, "you're apparently an escapee from the asylum." Turok chuckled darkly. "Just stay away from me and you'll remain alive."

"Like that'll stop me," he mumbled. "I'm the reason you are who you are today."

A cold sweat ran down Uno's back. "Come again?"

"Why don't you just curse me out and threaten me?" He mocked. "Or how about shove me to the side, stare me down, or even hex me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or rather, kill me like you killed everyone else?"

"Watch your mouth," she warned. "I _will_ repeat my actions. And the fact that you know about it doesn't make me feel too well, either."

Turok shrugged and turned away. "So do something about it then."

"I plan to."

"Good." He stepped up to the base of Apollo's mare and leant against it. "Just be careful with what you do to me—physical threats will only injure yourself."

Uno turned away and stared out over the horizon. "So explain yourself to me and I won't have to go physical."

Turok frowned then heaved a sigh and shook his head. "If you'd use your mind I wouldn't _have_ to explain myself," he murmured under his breath.

"I heard that," she retorted.

"Good," he snorted back.

Uno sent a death glare at him but it didn't phase the man one bit. Turok simply shook his head and laughed right back at her. She raised her chin and squared her shoulders back.

"You think that'll stop me?" He said through a grin.

"Fuck you," she snapped.

"Impossible," he countered.

"Get lost."

"Not likely."

"Go to Hell."

"Wish I could."

"Just—_leave_ me _alone_!" She spun on him. "Or I _will_ strike you—so help me!"

Turok's shoulders sagged. "Now is that any way to treat a fellow mate from your timeline?"

"You're not a friend of mine," she spat.

"Eh… to each his own."

Uno narrowed her eyes. "_Please_, go away," she seethed out.

Turok only grinned in return.

"Damn it, Turok!" Uno faced him and snarled. "I'll hit you and my hit will hurt!"

"I'm sure it would," he remarked jokingly.

She growled and charged with her fist in the ready. After a few striving leaps Uno managed to close the gap between the two and delivered a blow right to his nose.

But instead of coming in contact with flesh and bone she came in contact with the metal rare of Apollo's Mare. Instead of striking a face she struck a hard surface. Instead of being comforted by a flesh-covered skull she hit rock-hard substance dead on.

And broke all five bones of her hand.

"_Fucking hell!_" Uno roared aloud. She yanked her hand back, shook it severly, and then grasped it tightly. "What the _hell_ are you!" She shouted aloud.

"Well I'm not human but you didn't hit me," Turok replied casually, as if nothing happened.

Uno seethed and tore her gaze away while tightening the grip she had on her own hand. "God that hurt," she murmured through clenched teeth. "Very much so."

Turok simply shrugged. "Told you so."

Uno shot a glare his direction before looking down at her broken fingers. She heaved a deep sigh and tried flexing her broken bones. "This is going to hurt," Uno muttered as her other hand slowly wrapped its fingers around the broken ones. Within an instant, she snapped all of the broken bones back into place and immediately rolled her eyes to the back of her head.

"Feeling that burn, no?" Turok said through a grin. "Never thought you'd strike pain into your own body willingly, Uno. It amazes me." He tisked at her. "I mean, here I am, willing to come out and spill the truth and you try and attack me."

Uno shot another glare at him, her eyes darkened from the amount of pale color on her face. "Shut your mouth."

Turok mocked hurt and gasped. "Such bad mannerism for a Queen." Uno swallowed hard, wondering how he knew. "Though," he paused to chuckle, "I should be killed off for not bowing before royalty, myself."

"Who are you?" She murmured.

"How's your hand?"

"Please answer me," Uno returned softly. "Who are you and how do you know who I really am?"

Turok frowned and suddenly the pain returned to her broken fingers, causing Uno to seethe out once more. She winced and gripped tighter on the fracture. Turok inhaled a deep breath and glanced down at his own fingertips, where claws emerged instead of nails.

"It hurts to be normal, doesn't it?" He asked rhetorically. "To be human and to be like everyone else." Uno silently gasped aloud and felt her knees weaken in the torment of the pain. Then suddenly, the pain vanished and she was back to her old self once more, the ability to break and mend bones without the fear factor of the pain to hold her back.

"And then to suddenly return to who you really are," he carried on, "as if nothing ever happened." Uno frowned up at him but remained silent. Turok adverted his gaze from his hand to Uno's eyes and stared her down. "But not everyone is as lucky as you. Not everyone can just put aside who they really are to be somebody else, somebody they really aren't."

Uno opened her mouth as if to speak but Turok wasn't finished. "It's impossible to live another person's life without starting from birth. Because no matter what you try and accomplish, your history is still different, you still have a secret to hide, and you can never run from the past." Uno glanced down at her de-pained hand, frowing. "Common folk cannot claim to be royalty if they never had a lecture of ruling somebody and royalty can never claim to be common if they can't survive without their expensive needs."

"But I'm not royalty," Uno mumbled. She raised her head and returned his stare.

"You're not common, either," Turok returned equally. "You're not raised on the streets but you also weren't raised ruling by Relena's post." Uno's mouth parted but no words came out. "But how can you claim to be normal if you were never normal to begin with?"

"I was too, normal," Uno fought back. "When I was little and Theresa and Ricky and I were a team—I was normal then."

"Were you?" Uno shut her mouth. "You were always perfect, you always won everything, and you never felt the burn from all the gain. You had gain but no pain."

"I had pain," she murmured softly. "Just not a lot."

Turok nodded. "You had pain, yes. Pain of the loss for those you loved. Pain for small and minor things—no you didn't, Uno."

"How did you know?"

Turok continued as if she said nothing. "You had several paper cuts when Quatre used your help with filing and you merely licked the blood away and continued on. You cut yourself with Trowa's pocket knife but you simply dumped hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol on it without feeling the burn." He paused and choked out, "You got shot up and filled with bullets, factured so much to the point of disfigurement, cut up so much your insides almost spilled out of them, and thrown out of a fifty story window into a bayou filled to the brim—and you survived it all without hardly any pain and all the gain of wisdom. Now tell me _how_ can a _normal_ human being survive all of that?"

Uno stared at him, wide eyed and mouth gaping, and felt the world around her crashing. The cold air began to lower in temperature and her skin began growing bumps against the chilly degrees. She swallowed hard, wondering if the climate control worked the same way as the pain.

"So you tell me—how can you expect to just _be_ normal if you were never _normal_ to begin with?" He challenged her like no other had ever done. Uno stared at him, fearful at how well he knew her—so well that he knew things _she_ didn't know!

"How can you assume to be like everyone else when you were never like them to begin with?"

"So I can act like them," she spat out negatively. "At _least_ give me that much!"

"Act like them?" He choked out. "Uno—you _killed_ people! _Normal_ girls don't do that—they'd be raped and cry to their friends about it, not go off and kill in their protection. They would _let_ other girls hurt them and make them feel miserable, not chase them down and kill them for _lying_!" Turok tore his gaze away from her before he wanted to lash out and smack sense into her.

He knew he'd die before striking her.

"Uno," he paused to turn back and see there were crystals covering her violet eyes, "you don't know how to be normal and even if you did, you wouldn't be able to. Not with the way you were born."

"What are you talking about? Just who the _fuck_ are you to be talking to me like this? You don't _know_ who I am—_nobody_ here knows me like that!"

"Which is a good thing," he retaliated. "But you don't even know yourself."

She narrowed her eyes and closed the gap between them. Staring up at him, Uno snarled out, "I dare you to teach me, then." Turok frowned. "I _dare_ you to _show_ me who I really am."

"I won't hit you, Uno," he said softly. "Morris will have my ass in the boiler if I do any such thing." Uno frowned. "You'll meet him someday—which is why I can't even _think_ about touching you like that."

"What does Morris have to do with this?" She spat. "You're just too pitiful and afraid to strike me. Even though I attempted to hit you—you're too cowardly to hit me, because of the year I'm in you're trying to be a gentleman."

Turok took a deep breath. "You really are asking for it, aren't you?"

She grinned devilishly at him. "Are you?"

"No," he said swiftly. "And I never will."

Uno took a step backwards and widened her arms. "Go on—one free shot." Turok frowned. "I'll hold back just this once."

"Fucking Hell," he seethed out. "You won't stop until I do, will you?" Uno grinned. "Fine—but you'll only feel it."

Uno stood firm and stared him in the eyes, waiting for him to make the move.

But Turok never moved his feet or his arms. He never changed his breathing and he never attempted to raise his arms and hands. Then somehow, Uno swore violently as searing pain struck her in the center of the face and propelled her backwards. She flew through the air a good two feet before landing on her back and skidding across the icy pavement. Her head hit the bottom of a step for the theater door and halted her movement.

Upon instinct, Uno shot to her feet and stared in shock at the man before her. His elvish ears never twitched, his eyes never left hers, and his muscles never once flexed.

But how did he strike her so well without making a move?

"How did you do that?"

"I'm going to be dead for that," Turok mumbled back instead. "Even though, without me you can't exist and none of this would be possible to happen—Morris is going to have my head in the boiler room and cause me to downgrade a unit." Uno frowned. "I know you'll tell him, despite my urging not to so I won't even ask."

"Why does Morris have anything to do with this—and who, exactly, _is_ he?"

"Uno… there are a _lot_ of things you don't know and I'm more than willing to tell you," Turok began. "But you have to take it all in with an open ear and not wish to kill me—like you do now."

Uno smirked. "Apparently you _do_ know me."

Turok breathed deeply and spread open his arms. "Go on and take another hit." He moved away from the base of the statue, to where there was nothing behind him, and nodded in approval. "I'll allow you to try and swing again."

Uno shook her head. "You'll still move."

His brows shot to his hairline. "Move? You think I dodged your last hit?"

"I'm not going to strike you the same way. This time, I'm going to charge and tackle you to the ground—_then_ hit you." She balled her fists and got in a reay stance, prepared to charge at him. Turok turned to glance at what was behind him and then snapped his terrified gaze back at her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Uno," he warned.

"Which is exactly why you are _not_ me," she returned, grinning. She warmed up her hands, rubbed them together, then started to back up a few more feet.

"Uno—"

She ignored him and kicked off them ground. Turok held up his hands in attempt to stop her and push her backwards but instead of coming in contact with her body, she simply ran _through_ him.

And apparently over the edge.

Uno's eyes widened as she saw the ground coming towards her quickly. Before she had a chance to even open her mouth and scream she fell into hard, uneven cobblestone. A rainbow of colors swarm through her mind's eye and dirt blew up around her body. Every bone ached in her body as she hit the ground with full force.

After a moment of laying there, blackness surrounding her, Uno reopened her eyes and stared ahead of where she was faced. The Opera Populaire's side door entrance stood before her with its dark tan coloring and midnight shadows.

She inhaled a deep breath, drew in her strength, and pushed off the ground. Slowly, Uno allowed all of her joints to push back in place and listened as they popped together. With a grogging moan, Uno held herself in the air and raised her head to gaze up at the rooftop. She frowned and drew in her knees to support her weight.

"What… in… the… hell…?" Uno stumbled out, slowly gathering to her feet. "There is no way." She stared back at the door then slowly shook her head. "I have got to be on some drug or something cuz' even my dreams aren't this bizarre."

By the time she returned to the rooftop, Turok was waiting for her, his arms folded over each other and his back leaning against the frame of the mare. He regarded her with so much as a snort and Uno shut the door to the rooftop behind herself. She slowly retraced her steps to stand before the forgotten cinnabun.

"Feeling any better?" He asked.

Uno stared at him, her brows creased. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"… You pushed me over the edge."

"No I didn't," he choked out. "If I did Morris would _really_ eat me alive."

"… Then how did that happen?" She stared back down at the cinnabun and bent down to retrieve it.

"I told you to stop but just like Duo, you ignored the warning."

Uno fumed at him and threw the cinnabun. It smacked the back of the statue and Uno watched, in horror, as it slid down to the base of the stand, watched in horror _through_ Turok's body.

Turok laughed aloud. "Haven't you learnt to stop with the fascination of cinnabun tossing?" Her mouth slowly gaped open. "I mean, first Ricky gets it thrown at his face and now you attempt to throw it at mine?"

"How is that possible?" Uno murmured, clearly frozen stiff as if she'd seen a ghost. "You're… not… really there." Turok only grinned. "It's like you're a ghost."

"Not a ghost," he corrected.

But Uno nodded. "You're mad—you're a ghost."

He shrugged. "And you're mad for talking to a figment of your imagination." A wicked grin crossed his face. "Get the hint?" Her jaw dropped. "Guess so."

"A figment of my imagination?" Uno repeated. "Explain yourself."

"Or hit you?" He countered. "Do one or the other, right?"

"You said you couldn't hit me—so apparenty that option is out of the question."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Don't want to get in bad with my brother. Morris would—"

"Boil you for it, I know," she finished for him. "Just what do you mean by that, anyways?" Uno leant against the base of another statue and looked Turok in the eyes. "And what does Morris have anything to do with me?"

"Boiling isn't dunking me in hot water," he explained. "It's melting my mainfraim and making me have to be recreated. And you remember that dream right?"

Uno frowned. "Not as vividly as I would have liked, at this moment. But how did you know what I dreamt about, anyways?" He stared at her. "What?"

"You're definitely a Maxwell."

Uno frowned and turned away. "I kinda' want to thank you for calling me that."

He stifled a smirk. "I used to live at the Blassimeer Manor—also known as the Winner Mansion, where you were raised _many_ years later." Uno nodded. "Morris lived there, too."

"Yeah so what does that have to do with me?" She turned back to see him frowning over at her. "What?"

"We were born there."

"Okay?"

He continued staring. "What was Blassimeer known for?" Uno frowned. "What was Synodd trying to do—besides kill you?"

"Create humanoid machines, based off the information that Ricky stole from me—rather, gave him before he killed himself." Uno paused in wonder. "Are you saying…?"

He grinned. "About time you realize it."

"So you and Morris are both humanoid machines from Blassimeer's expirments?" Turok nodded. "Where's Morris?"

"Thankfully deceased," he replied. "He had a kid and died later on."

"Oh… but then how are you here?" Uno pushed off the statue and frowned down at the ground. "If he died already, and the both of you are created in the far future," she paused to turn and face him, "and you claim to be a figment of my imagination…"

"Which you proved by running off the building," he added in, which received him a glare. He chuckled. "Connect the dots yet, Maxwell?"

"How can you be here? What do you have to do with me?"

"Your mind."

"What?"

"I'm linked to your mind, Uno." He explained. "When you hacked into me I hacked right into you."

Uno frowned. "But… what?" She looked at him with pure innocence and Turok had to smile at the heartly look she gave him. "I don't get it."

He chuckled. "You're a ditz at times, Uno." She frowned and stuck out her lower lip in a small pout. He smiled. "But I can see why Duo will always claim you to be his little girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Anywho."

"Moving on?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I downloaded myself into your brain."

She sighed heavily. "You're really helping."

"Here," he pushed off the statue and paced the path before her, "I'll give you a hint. Alright?"

"Try me." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"What did you do at age six that had the Government stunned into silence?"

"I told them all off on Universal Television of every news station around."

He nodded and raised finger to point at her. "Before that," he said. "It's something you made notion of _at_ the meeting, during your little speech."

Uno frowned. "Something shocking?"

He nodded again. "It's about what you did and wondered why everyone was so shocked."

Uno took a moment to think then faced him and frowned. "You mean when I hacked into Heero's laptop?"

"Go on."

"And by passed the Zero system?"

Turok stopped pacing and faced her. "What happened after that?"

"Nothing—screen went black and I almost threw up."

"You claimed to have been possessed, right?" He grinned at her. "To have been possessed by the Zero system, having it install itself into your thick skull, right?"

"Just what are you trying to get at by saying my skull's thick?" She frowned. "Leave my head outta' this, will ya'!"

"Fine but what happened after that and after the war's started to end?"

Uno frowned. "I came here—to this… place."

"Then after you killed those stage handlers, that first night?"

"… I went mad."

Turok closed his eyes and groaned aloud. "Uno—you're already mad. I mean to say the voices in your head—what did you hear in your head?" She gasped and he opened his eyes to see her terrified expression. "Who did you hear in the back of your head and why?"

"Oh my God," she spat. "You're him!"

"Say it, Uno," he urged. "Say my name."

"You're Zero!" It left a bad taste in her mouth. "You're Zero—you're the one who possessed my brain! You're the one who's been keeping me company all these months! You're the one who's—"

"Helped your survive the war, ignore the pain, mend broken bones and survive the falls—yes Uno, I am the voice in the back of your head, telling you to grow up and take charge of the fate that runs your life." Suddenly, the whole world around her felt like it was nothing but a stage and she was a puppet. "I am the numbness that dulls the pain when the bullet holes, the knife wounds, or the rape would have killed you. I'm the strength you called out for when you cried for help. I'm the one who answered your prayers when you prayed for help." His eyes narrowed and Uno saw, for the first time in her life, true evil. "I am the one who has handed you the Pandora box to open for I _am_, the Pandoras Box."

"Oh my God," she murmured, utterly terrified. "How can that be?"

"All throughout the war you wouldn't have survived but I needed you to live. When Heero fought I only sided with him, finding out for myself that he was capable of handling the situations on his own. Each time one of them piloted the machine I was programmed into, I tested them to see if they were worthy to fight this war and if they had the strength to win. I challenged them, quizzed them, and asked them if they knew who their enemy was." He dropped his voice to a snarl. "I would _not_ let Synodd _steal_ what fuckup Blassimeer had tried to destroy."

Uno swallowed hard but still her breath wouldn't allow her to breathe properly.

"Kayne made me and Morris—along with four other women—each with a certain design format. I was designed to be a program based strictly for battle strageties and Morris for perfection—granted he became cocky with it." Turok heaved a breath before carrying on. "But after Kayne Blassimeer had a run-in with Quatre Winner's father, he changed his mind about his ideas and tried to eliminate us all. Morris got away but I was captured because I didn't have the skill Morris had to achieve escape; I only had the stragety and I told him what the plan was and how to get out.

"They kept me and put me to sleep but cloned by brain and programmed it into what they later called the Zero system, then developed that into a fighter machine. _I was forgotten, Uno!_" Uno winced at Turok's yell. "I was _forgotten_ and life went on! Morris survived and met a woman, married her, and had a little girl. All _this_ I know because of _you_, Uno. All this I know because of _you_, because _his_ blood runs through _your_ veins!"

Uno gasped. "Are you saying…?"

"Morris's daughter was named Sarah and since he didn't have a last name to marry off with, he kept the name of the woman he loved," Turok explained. "He became Morris Cleaver. Morris is _your_ grandfather, Uno." Uno felt the world coming to a stop on its axis as she listened to her family history. "Your mother, Sarah, was an acer in _every_ little thing she did. She _had_ to win every challenge she could. She _had_ to enter every tournament and win the prize. She _had_ to ace through all her grades and be the best."

"But…"

"And then she had a run in with the military—or rather, a soldier of Synodd, but you're not yet ready to hear that part. She became lovers with this guy, not knowing the real reason he was using her for food, sex, and shelter. Again, you'll find that out later on."

"I want to know now," she ordered softly, but Turok's dark glare held her down.

"I can make your heart stop beating, Uno. Don't make me do it."

She smirked. "You said you'd be boiled for it."

"I will," he admitted. "But in _our_ time they can reanimate a dead heart to make it living again and I _highly_ doubt you'd want to be buried in this world—surely because they don't know how to make caskets the way the insects will stay out of your presense."

She felt a cold chill run down her spine. Swallowing hard, Uno nodded her head and admitted him to carry on. "Go on," she whispered, her eyes downcast.

Turok nodded and continued. "Sarah met Duo one night and they slept together. I know Duo wanted to say with her but the war was far more important. He got her pregnant and nine months later, Happy Halloween—_you're_ born at the stroke of midnight."

Uno smirked. "So it really _was_ midnight?"

He nodded. "I only know all of this because when I installed myself into your brain, I managed to run you like a robot into connecting to the Blassimeer power supply and the resource database." She frowned. "I _used_ you, like a puppet, to tap into the updated history of the mansion and find out _everything_ I have missed out on." Uno gasped aloud. "Synodd only _copied_ from the mansions back up supply—they couldn't _steal_ it so the manor kept every detail that happened."

"When did you do this?"

"There were more than two times," he admitted. "Each time, I made sure to give all four of the guys—Heero, Duo, Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei—a deep dream to picture in their heads so no body would wake up and see little ol' Uno trailing' down the hallway towards the library, pulling open the moveable bookcase, opening the lock with the key you found and hid from the world, and entering into the Security Room. You didn't have to power up the system in order to plug into it—no," he paused and turned his back to her, "I just had you place your hand on the keypad handlock of the database closet."

Uno frowned. "Database closet?"

Turok nodded and turned back to her with a grin. "A secret room of the Security Room that Blassimeer had hidden before his death." He noticed the confused look on her face. "After I got what I needed, I had you back track your steps, put everything back in order, and return to bed. You probably wondered why you woke up the next morning feeling a little tired." Uno nodded. "I worked your muscles making you move the bookcase."

She glanced down at her arms and hands. "So how did you know who I was when I hacked the system?"

"Your fingerprints," he replied honestly. "They are the same as Morris's."

She frowned up at him. "You're my Great Uncle, then?" He nodded. "Why didn't you protect me all throughout the war, then?"

"I did."

"How?"

"By keeping you alive and living without too much pain. Uno, any _normal_ girl would have died from the amount of pain and lack of oxygen to your body. When the soldiers cut you up and raped you—you would have died had I not taken over when you blacked out." She frowed and parted her lips to question him. "_You_ blacked out but that's _why_ they let you go, Uno. I took over and continued making you swear at them, curse them, and attempt to break free despite their sadistic ways of pleasuring themselves on you."

She sighed and lowered her eyes. "Thank you," Uno murmured.

Turok nodded. "You're welcome," he replied back with a soft voice. "The reason you were able to survive after Sarah threw you into the alley to save you from the explosion wasn't _not_ because of Duo's blood of surviving. It wasn't because of the Maxwell blood—all his blood did was make you look like him and have his sarcastic sense of humor. Your ability to survive on your own, achieve accomplishment, and even your cocky arrogance was derived from Morris, through Sarah, and into your veins." Uno stifled a weak smirk. "You're only a quarter human."

She nodded. "Makes sense."

"And the reason you're able to remember things better than Theresa was—who you would have been like had I not installed myself into your brain—was _because_ of me. I was there to help you stragetize things, to help you keep tract of what was going on, and to help you run efficiently."

"I'm like a computer and you're the mother board," Uno teased.

Turok grinned in return. "More like the power supply."

"Lovely," she snorted out. "And here I thought I was just gifted."

He shook his head. "This is why you're still alive—because I told Tallgeese and Epyon to not let you self-destruct." She raised her head and stared up at him. "If you just bend the fractions of light just enough, and the chemicals of the oxygen around you, you can manage to tear a hole into the Universe and travel through time."

"Creating a vortex through space—through Hyper Drive, only the opposite direction," Uno finished off.

Turok nodded in approval and grinned. "Because I was already _inside_ of your head, the clone of me in the machine you fought wasn't allowed to help—and I used the other two systems, Tallgeese and Epyon, to keep you alive and send you elsewhere _before_ the explosion had a chance to beat you up."

Uno frowned. "Does any one else know this?"

"I'm assuming Justin's found out—he's not as dumb as you make him out to be, Uno." She lowered her gaze to Turok's chest. "He doesn't just like you. For some odd, demented reason, that guy has found out _who_ you are and fallen in love with the arrogant bitch that I wouldn't catch myself dead with."

She smirked. "Yet you run my body like it's your own?"

He shrugged his shoulders casually. "So I used you—what guy hasn't?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Say that again."

Turok chuckled and backed up a step. "Not sexually, you _baka_."

She nodded her acceptance. "Uh huh… keep talking."

Turok grinned. "So now you know the truth about your existence and who I am." He paused before adding in, "Any questions?"

"Just one… what now?"

"Come again?"

"Now that you've made yourself clear to me, that I'm insane to the point where it's impossible to go back… will you still be in my thoughts, torturing me?"

Turok considered this for a brief moment. "Do you want me to?"

She frowned and considered his counter question briefly. "I'll be lonely after so long."

He nodded. "I'll stay to help keep you alive until we're right back where we belong."

"You mean with Justin? But how? That's millenia's away."

"Yeah and you had the scientists work on your body. Even without me, you'd still survive. All I do is numb the pain and keep your body moving. What they did, besides make it impossible to ever reproduce, was enhance your immune system so any injury you may have would be gone in several hours minimum."

"… Would that be why I didn't die when I fell from the roof, just a little while ago?"

He laughed. "Yep."

"Okay." Uno shuttered suddenly. "Me… children… uuhh…"

He laughed loudly. "Yeah—it scares us all to see you give birth." She glared him but laughed as well. "It scared Heero to know Duo had a kid—but Heero made sure no body knew. I knew because he had reported it to Doctor J—which he also mentioned that he wouldn't be surprised if the world stopped turning correctly on its axis."

"And yet, both Duo and I would freak out if he had children with Relena." She smiled. "I don't think the kid would be able to survive without having _some_ form of twisted, suicidal thought in their head that _somehow_ linked to pacifism."

"Nope," he chuckled darkly. "Not likely with that pairing. A recluse who would kill just as badly as you… and a pacifist who wants to abolition all guns and fighting."

"I need sleep," she mumbled out before a heavy yawn over came her. Turok nodded and stepped in front of her path.

"Try to relax on Charline and Meg, Uno." She frowned. "Meg is only trying to be there for you as well as Charline and you're pushing Charline away."

"I don't need friends, Turok. They always die and Charline almost had, because of me."

He nodded but continued anyways. "I don't care," he muttered. "You asked for a second chance with Theresa then Charline came into the picture. Try and make that second chance happen."

Uno frowned and hung her head. "It's too hard."

"You need to move on."

She heaved a deep, shuttering breath and nodded. "I'll try."

Turok grinned and set both of his hands on her shoulders. "I know you can do it, Uno. You're my Great Neice—you can do _anything_."

She stifled a smirk then raised her hands to place them over his. Closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply, Uno regained her composure then opened her eyes back up.

When she opened them Turok was gone.

With a smirk, Uno wrapped her fingers around the fabric of the dress where she recently held his hands. "I'll survive," she murmured before gazing up at the sky. "Because now I know the meaning behind my existence."

_Good._

She chuckled and closed her eyes but a thought occurred to her suddenly. Opening her eyes back up and staring at the statue before her, Uno frowned.

"On one condition, though."

_What?_

"I want you to eventually tell me the meaning behind my bloodline's existence and why everyone's always been trying to kill me."


	28. Discovering The Heart

**Well... here's another chapter. Not much gore compared to a particular other chapter--even though the 'gore' of this chapter finishes off on the other. If anyone here knows of Gundam Wing... you'll understand the ending. If not, that's fine. You don't need to. I hope you'll looking forward to E/U.

* * *

**

- Twenty-Eight -

"Uno!" Charline jumped on Uno's back. "Guess what I just found out!"

Uno bent over to steady herself and keep Charline from falling off. She wrapped her arms backwards around her friend's back and continued walking down the hallway towards the café.

"What did you just find out, Charline?"

Charline smiled and squeezed her hold on her best friend. "You'll be singing opera at the next galla!"

Uno froze. "What?"

"I'm so happy for you!"

Uno dropped her hold and Charline fell backwards. Wincing, she looked up at her friend as Uno turned on her.

"You heard that from who?" Uno asked, her voice steady with weary.

"It's all over the theater," Charline explained. "Priscella is telling everyone that you'll be singing at the next show—even though she says you'll probably shatter all the mirrors in the building."

"She did… did she?" Uno's eyes narrowed. "What else is she saying?"

Charline got to her feet. "Also that you have been given lessons from Christine DeChagny—you are _so_ lucky, Uno!"

Uno frowned. "Priscella has it all wrong."

"I'm so proud to be your friend!"

"Charline," Uno began, "Priscella is wrong. Christine's not teaching me—one of the patrons to the Opera Populare teaches me."

Charline frowned. "What?"

"And last night was our first lesson." Uno turned back around and continued towards the café, her friend on her tail. "It wasn't a splendid lesson, I must add in, either. He's stubborn and highly arrogant."

"So it's not Christine?"

"No."

Charline glanced down. "Why would she say all this then?"

Uno shrugged. "She probably doesn't expect it to get far—thinking it may hurt me or something."

"Are you still singing at the next galla?"

Uno sighed. "Sadly."

"You don't want to?"

"I want to hide under a rock, really." Uno placed her hand on the knob of the door and turned back to her friend. "Singing is something that has become a part of a past I'm trying desperately to forget."

-

"Christine," Priscella bowed her head as she neared the viscountess. Christine smiled and turned to the ballerina.

"Hello."

"I know Uno will be unhappy that I am telling you this," Priscella began, "but she believes that she is a much greater diva than you and claims you make Carlotta sound like an angel."

Christine frowned. "I don't understand."

"Uno does not like you."

"She and I are friends—why would she not like me?"

Priscella shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps she's using your friendship for hope that you would share your wealth with her. But she's spreading nasty rumours about you throughout the entire opera house."

Christine frowned and glanced around at the passing ballerinas. Meg spotted her from the distance and ran towards her. "I don't understand why she would do that." She turned to Meg. "Priscella tells me that Uno has said I sound worse than Carlotta when I sing."

Meg frowned at Priscella. "Is _that_ who has started those rumours?" Priscella nodded. "How unlike her."

"That's what I believe," Christine murmured, feeling a little hurt. Meg put a comforting hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"I'm sure there's a good reason for this, Christine. Uno doesn't seem the type of person to be this rude."

Priscella shrugged. "Well she is secretive," she reminded them. "Perhaps she's befriending you so you'd give her money or a title someday."

"But she knows I can't do that," Christine said softly. "And it's not up to me—it's up to my husband."

Priscella shrugged again and looked away. "I'm only relating information. I know _I_ wouldn't be so happy if there were rumours spreading about me."

Meg bit her lower lip and turned to another gathering of ballerinas that pranced by. "I should go find Charline."

"What?" Christine turned to her suddenly. "Why?" Priscella's eyes lit up.

"I'm sure Charline knows what's going on."

"Either that Uno's hiding her from the truth as well or she's in on it," Priscella warned.

Meg frowned but bowed her head to her best friend and fellow dancer before fleeing.

She found Charline in the hallway leaving the café and stood her ground firmly before her. Charline frowned and slowed to a stop, wondering why Meg was practically glaring her.

"Meg?" Charline said weakly.

"What is going on with Uno, Charline?" Meg shot out. "Why is she spreading rumours about Christine?"

"What?"

"Christine is my best friend and I won't stand for this coming from her. Just because Uno is going to be taking over as diva from the next Galla and on doesn't mean she can steal the spotlight from everyone else. Even Carlotta knows _that_!"

"… Meg?"

"What's going on, Charline?" Meg growled and folded her arms over her chest. "I want the truth. Are you in on it too, hoping to get money from Christine by playing friend, or is she hiding the truth from you as well?"

"… Uno's not doing anything."

"That's not what Priscella's saying."

Charline's mouth dropped. "_Priscella_? _Priscella_ is saying this about Uno?"

"To Christine, yes."

"Meg—are you daft!" Charline coughed briefly and Meg felt her face get flushed. "Priscella, like Marcella, is Uno's arch rival. Of _course_ she'll tell lies to Christine to get her to hate Uno! She's tried that with me but I only laughed at her face and walked off."

Meg frowned. "So… Uno's _not_ spreading these rumours?"

Charline sighed. "No Meg—Uno's not the type to do that. You should know that, if you're her friend." Meg glanced down shyly. "Besides, she told me she tolerates Christine but wouldn't consider her anymore than just an acquaintance. She accepts you as a friend because you're easier and—as I can see for myself—not so childish."

"…So she's _not_ using Christine for her money and title?"

Charline frowned. "No… and that doesn't sound like Uno."

"Well… doesn't Uno have secrets she's hiding?" Meg asked. Charline bit her bottom lip, remembering when she witnessed Uno murder two men outside the Opera Populare months back.

"No," Charline lied. "Uno's only secret is something even I don't know. It's something she keeps referring to as 'her past' and I think singing has to do with it. And besides… she hates singing."

"Then why is she singing now?"

Charline shrugged. "Beats me. But Uno's not the one spreading rumours. She won't use Christine like that, anyways."

"Like what?" Both girls gasped and turned to see Uno standing behind Charline. "What would I use Christine for and what rumours would I spread around?"

"Priscella's telling Christine that you're using her friendship in hopes that you'll someday get rich and famous and that you sing far better than her, making her sound worse than Carlotta," Meg informed.

Uno frowned. "Really?" She nodded. "I'll have to have a word with her."

"Well… Christine really thinks she's telling the truth, Uno." Meg said softly. "The last I saw she was on the brink of tears, almost."

Uno sighed and hung her head. "I can't stand Christine because she's too weak and timid and let's the world around her hurt her."

"I know she's soft and you're not but you must understand," Meg paused, "Christine has had a horrible past and even though she has gotten stronger from it, she's not strong enough to face the world alone."

Uno frowned. "Apparently it wasn't horrible enough."

"Uno!" Meg gasped. "Christine could have _easily_ killed Raoul if she made the wrong decision."

Uno stared her in the eyes. "Yeah… and I witness my entire family murdered off because I managed to survive on my own since I was three." Both Meg and Charline's mouth dropped slowly. "So Christine's lucky she's got what she has now."

"That sounds horrible Uno."

"Yeah well," Uno turned away. "It's history."

_Or rather… the future_, she contemplated silently.

"I should get back and tell Christine the truth then," Meg breathed out. "Other wise she will tell Raoul and he may have you fired."

Uno shrugged. "If he does then he does—I can live without this theather's help."

"Besides," Charline turned to Meg, "I just remembered Uno had come from Texas—she knows how to manage on her own."

Uno felt a cold chill run down her spine.

"What?" Meg frowned at the braided diva. "Texas?"

"Um…"

"Yes and I heard that her mother was Empress in Japan and Uno's the heir, so when she is ready she can assume the throne after she marry's the Emperor," Charline explained.

Uno's eyes widened and her face paled.

"Empress!" Meg gasped. "That is amazing!"

"Meg, Charline—please," Uno urged.

"Christine _has_ to know this so she would know that you are _not_ using her for money and a title." Meg spun around and attempted to run but Uno grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Don't tell a soul," she pleaded. "Please, I am thoroughly begging you two to keep this secret silent."

Meg frowned. "But… why?"

"I just… I don't want news of my existence getting out. I traveled the world so I can learn about the different countries and not have to worry about the people trying to chase me down." Uno released Meg's wrist and continued with her huge lie. "I grew up with my father in Texas and… well… news got out about me being Empress and he was killed trying to protect me, thus is why I fled to Europe."

"Oh," Meg pouted. "That's horrible."

"I heard from Count Verafaunte that you were Empress," Charline explained. "He spoke with me at the end of the last show to compliment me on my dancing and we starting talking about other things—your name got brought up and he told me what you must have told him before." Uno nodded and waited until Charline continued reeducating Uno in the lie Uno had made up.

"He also said that you claimed your father was a Duke in America."

"He was but he moved to Texas when I was a child," Uno explained.

Charline nodded and continued. "Which I feel confused on because you told me your mother died from a battle against the Indians, protecting you."

Uno cleared her throat. "That she did," she said quickly. "But my father found me and later learnt I was his child and knew who I was—since I was my mother's daughter—and knew what had to be done."

"Wow," Meg purred out. Uno and Charline turned to her. "You've had such an amazing life, Uno."

Uno frowned. "Please don't tell Christine. I don't want my name to get out."

"I won't," Meg assured her. "But I'm still amazed. Is this why you don't wish to sing anymore?"

Uno nodded. "My father loved my voice and I had friends who would help me train it but the same people who killed my father killed my friends."

Charline pouted. "We won't tell, Uno," she said. "We promise." Meg nodded in agreement.

What Uno didn't sense was the other presense lurking around the corner with open ears and a contemplating mind.

-

Uno waited until rehearsals were over and the theater's ballet has dispersed before returning to the stage. Only a few remaining ballerina's were left gathering their things, talking amongst themselves, when she made her appearance. Amongst the few remaining girls was Priscella, her back to the diva. When the other girls had left, Uno came out of the shadows in a fury.

"What are you doing?" Uno seethed out as she grappled both Priscella's shoulders and pinned her against the wall. Hot anger seared through her veins and Priscella's few things fell to the floor in a panic.

"W-what?"

"Why are you saying things about me?" Uno repeated. "Why do you girls dislike competition? Am I too hard to fight against?"

Priscella cringed against the raging woman. "What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything," she whimpered out.

"_Bull_shit!" Uno slammed the petite girl's body against the wall roughly. "I don't believe you."

"What are you going to do to me?" Priscella asked. "Harm me? You do know we are not alone, Uno."

Uno narrowed her eyes and did well to hide the discomfort that had suddenly taken over her. "Is that so? The last I checked we were the only two remaining in the theater."

"Did you forget," Priscella began, "that there is a ghost lurking in this building? He sees all and he owns everything."

Uno's brows creased. "What are you saying?"

"The phantom is probably watching us right now," Priscella said with delight as a grin formed on her lips. "He is probably angry with you for attacking a ballerina—one who so delicately dances a huge act in the next show." She chuckled darkly but Uno didn't stand for it.

With the strength Uno had built up since she was six, she released Priscella's shoulders and replaced the hold with a firm grip to the girl's neck. Priscella's eyes widened and her fingers wrapped around Uno's single right wrist. Within the blink of an eye, Uno's grip had tightened and she had lifted the dancer off the floor by a good six inches and suspended her in mid air, using the wall as support.

Eyes narrowing to slits of evil, Uno growled fiercely, "Then he will play witness to my attack on you." She paused briefly to allow the realization settle over the other girl. "I give you the same warning I gave Marcella," Uno paused again and took the moment to hurl Priscella away from her a good distance. Priscella practically flew in the air and landed on the edge of the stage with a hard _thud_, whimpering as her arms supported her fall and stung in the process.

"Do _not_ play with fire unless you are _prepared_ to get burnt!" Her voice was loud and thunderous, a raging boom of emotions against the stillness of the audience. Priscella stared back at her with fear etched deeply in her eyes and felt her lower lip tremble with slight trepidation. Within the span of the next few moments Uno gathered herself back up and fled the theater, leaving behind a terrified ballerina.

-

Erik adjusted his cloak back around him after the rehearsals had ended and stretched his aching limbs. The ballet proved to be decent enough, despite a few mistakes he knew Madam Giry would fix before the show arrived, and a few hours Uno would have her next lesson. She would have to be ready to sing the full song by the following week else the show must be canceled with her name to blame.

The previous night proved entirely fitful for Erik. Uno had arrived on time, as discussed, and quite prepared to fight. She did as told and followed orders but gave him trouble with it. He could not correct her without having a witty remark about his own abilities and forced to question his own status.

He began wondering just how her parents had been able to raise her if she couldn't take a lecture that well.

_Speak of the devil_, he mused. Just as he was turning to leave the box Uno had appeared on the egde of the stage while the few remaining ballerinas disappeared, leaving only one behind.

Priscella.

Erik narrowed his eyes and leant forward, remembering the last time Uno had appeared after the rehearsal to settle some form of bulky business. The other girl treated her much similar but in a more dirty way whereas this girl knew how to maneuver in stealth.

Uno gained on the dancer and flung her into the wall, causing the poor girl to lose her things in the quake of it all. "What are you doing?" Uno had seethed out but Erik was quite capable of making it out.

Priscella quivered. "W-what?"

"Why are you saying things about me? Why do you girls dislike competition? Am I to hard to figth against?"

"What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything," the ballerina whimpered out.

"_Bull_shit!" Erik watched as the diva slammed the dancer's body against the wall with great force. "I don't believe you," she seethed through clenched teeth.

"What are you going to do to me?" Erik heard a hint of weary to the older girl's voice. "Harm me? You do know we are not alone, Uno."

_That wench is pushing Uno away_, Erik contemplated. _She is warning her of my presence._

"Is that so? The last I checked we were the only two remaining in the theater."

"Did you forget that there is a ghost lurking in this building?" Erik's eyes narrowed as the girl took on pleasure to her words. "He sees all and he ownes everything."

"What are you saying?"

"The phantom is probably watching us right now." She grinned. "He is probably angry with you for attacking a ballerina—one who so delicately dances a huge act in the next show."

Erik narrowed his eyes and growled, his fists balling with rage by his side. _How _dare_ she use him against Uno that way!_ His lips flared in anger, prepared to fire the wench and allow her counter-part to dance solely.

The girl began laughing and Erik watched as Uno, apparently feeling the same way he felt, replaced her hold on the older girl and suspended her in the air quickly, the fingers around the neck tight and fatal.

"Then he will play witness to my attack on you. I'll give you the same warning I gave Marcella." Erik frowned and leant forward but froze the moment he saw Uno hurl her across the stage, much to close to the edge of the pit for his liking. She turned on the dancer with a rage he only saw when he was threatening Raoul and Christine's lives.

"Do _not_ play with fire unless you are _prepared_ to get burnt!"

He watched, in extreme interest, as Uno left the girl to her own shattered illusions, shaking and very much trembling to the bone. When the diva was gone for good he pulled back and muttered a curse beneath his breath, wondering if he appeared at all mad when he was angry, as Uno appears when she loses her temper. Priscella pushed herself up and braced her arm in support. Erik considered her current state and figured to have the counter-part take over anyways, just incase the fall caused greater harm and gave more injury than what she felt right then.

Without another thought, he turned from the scene and left the box behind.

-

"The _nerve_ of that bitch!" Uno slammed the door to her room as soon as she entered it and growled in fury. "I should slaughter her for what she's doing!"

_Break off her fingers_, Turok offered.

"Kill her!" Uno continued.

_Drain her body of blood._

"Get rid of her!"

_Burn her body and send her to Hell._

"The world doesn't need garbage like her!" Uno stormed over to her bed and collapsed face first into the pillows.

_Then plan an attack tonight._

She sighed and turned to face the wall, her head resting on the pillow. "She's getting on my nerves. Marcella stooped low and attacked my friends—this one's trying to attack my only reputation."

_She's in the way._

"I just can't stand it when people treat others like that… like they have to get rid of somebody who's a threat to them," Uno paused. "And shut up, Turok."

_You said it—not me._ Uno closed her eyes and groaned. _She's in your war—get rid of her._

"What?"

_Remember what Zechs taught you? 'When obstacles are in your way—eliminate them entirely.'_

Uno glanced at the grandfather clock in her room and frowned. "After rehearsals… I'll deal with her personally."

-

Erik massaged Uno's throat as she suspended the single note longer than required. "Easy on your vocals, Uno," he commanded. "There. That's better."

Uno let the note finish and she glanced down at the ground soon after. Small flakes of snow began falling and she heard Erik, behind her, shudder softly.

"You're cold," she mumbled. "Why are you out here with me if you're cold?"

Erik hesitated before responding. "The theater cannot know I teach you."

Frowning, she turned to look at up at him. "I already told them."

"What did you say?"

"That a patron of the theater is teaching me opera," she explained. "I didn't say your name, though."

"Good." Erik stepped around to the front of her and looked her in the eyes. "Your voice is excellent and the power you weild with it is outrageous. How was your tutor before?"

"I… never had one."

He frowned. "No body helped you train your voice?" She shook her head. "You're a natural?"

"Yes," she murmured. "Ever since I was little… I sang in school shows and off to the side with my friends." At the mention of her deceased—or yet to be born and deceased—friends Uno felt a chill travel up the length of her spine.

"Why did you stop?"

She glanced away and mumbled sheepishly. "I had no choice."

"What was the reason?"

Uno hesitated before replying. "I had to take over my father's business," she said. It wasn't entirely a lie; Duo's business wasn't work related as much as it was war related.

Erik nodded as if he understood and lifted her chin in his hands. He looked her in the eyes as he mumbled, "You have a beautiful voice and you use it with so much strength and power. I only wish you were here a few years ago when the theater had produced music for Christine Daae."

Uno frowned. "I thought you liked her voice."

Erik flustered briefly. "At that time I did," he shot back. "But after I heard your voice I learnt she was merely a whisper compared to your explosive abilities."

Uno's mouth parted in aw as all words died on her tongue. She stared into Erik's dark green eyes and felt the world spinning out of control. His white mask, already implanted in her mind as a key component to his attire, disappeared as she slowly lost herself within his dazzeling orbs. She felt her body turning to mush and started to feel herself become as light as a feather.

_Uno… you're about to kiss him_, Turok warned.

Uno's eyes blinked and she cleared her mind of its wanderings. She and Erik had gotten much closer within the span of only several seconds and it wasn't until after she cleared her throat the two of them backed up again.

"It's beginning to get chilly," she rushed out. "I don't want to get ill." She knew it was a lie but she also knew Erik didn't know. If she got sick from the weather—if she could even _feel_ it, at least, then she would have been dead from the leapt off the roof the other night.

Erik nodded and cleared his throat as well. "Yes—the theater can't have a sick diva for the next showing, especially one that'll shelter her best work."

Uno stifled a smirk and nodded in agreement. "Tomorrow evening?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow it is. Sleep well, Uno."

Uno nodded and turned away. Before she left the roof she turned back to see Erik watching her intensely. Stiffling a smile, she bowed her head.

-

_What do you propose to do?_ Turok asked as Uno paced the floor of her room, the lights dimmed down to where everything held dark shadows. _Strangle her in her sleep?_

Frowning and chewing on her lower lip, Uno contemplated her choices. "I know she's getting too close to my personal life," she mumbled. "And I have to stop her from finding out that I have voices in my head."

… _Hah hah._

"And she can't find out who I really am," Uno continued. "So… _shit_—there isn't much to do!"

_You have to do it soon_, Turok warned. _It's already late enough._

Uno stopped pacing and turned to the clock. She chewed on her lip even more before turning to glance at the door.

"I have no choice," she mused. "It has to be done."

Dressing in the clothes she wore when she arrived and packing her gun in the back of her waist band, Uno made silently through the halls with the use of Turok's mapping skills and reached the dormitories. She climbed the stairs she knew would lead to Priscella's loft, taking each step careful of its creaking, and stopped when she heard the soft snores of the older girl.

Uno's nose crinkled and she heard laughter in her head. _She snores,_ Turok mused. _How beautiful._

She rolled her eyes and steeled herself ready. Within the next moment, Uno lashed out violently and covered Priscella's mouth as forcefully as she could. Flailing arms jumped out and tried to attack her but Uno, as quick as lightneing, whipped out a syringe from her knee pocket and stabbed the girl's neck with it. Within seconds the body went limp.

Uno put the syringe back in her pocket and scooped the body out of the bed. Careful not to wake anyone up, she carried Priscella's fainted self down all the many stairs, through all the many hallways, and into the stables. She neared Hercules and saw him whinny his head, a sadle already on his body, laid the body over his back and strap it up, then mounted him herself.

Hercules kicked into gear and flew out of the stables. Uno directed him to the same place she had directed him to bring Marcella several months back. When she neared the opening she found the mound of ash from her last kill had entirely disappeared and now a thin layer of snow was forming on top of it.

With a smug grin and a swift nod of her head, Uno decided it was time to begin.

-

Erik heaved a sigh as he saddled up Hercules for a ride. Teaching Uno was one thing—since she enjoyed arguing with him over every little detail—but flattering her was something entirely different. He has told everyone that he would not fall into the same trap as before, that he would not permit his feelings to allow him to get hurt again.

But he failed.

He has found a liking to her when she arrived, found her amazing when he first heard her sing, thought she was a deity when he saw her at the ball, and then tonight, as she sang opera, he found his heart filled to the brim with the possibility of his music.

But he can't let the history repeat.

And even though he urged that he would make sure it didn't repeat, he knew he had no say over the matter. She had already begun to take over him.

After the straps were secured he heard a noise and immediately ducked into a corner, hidden entirely by the shadows. He saw Uno, dressed in her strange clothes that he once saw her wearing in his lair, and holding something in her arms. It looked like a person.

It looked like Priscella.

He frowned. _What is she doing?_

Erik watched in silence as she laid Priscella's limp form on the back of Hercule's body, strap it in place, and then mount his back herself. Within a second they were out of the stables and Erik stood up to watch Uno make her deadly escape.

"What is she doing," he pondered. He knew there was only one way to find out.

He mounted the nearest horse quickly, although bareback, and made haste to follow his own steed's footsteps.

-

"Mmmph," Priscella mumbled. She opened her eyes and frowned when snow and grass blades touched her skin. Pushing up she glanced around and found she was simply lying somewhere in the forest. The last she recalled she was sleeping and somebody had covered her mouth.

"It's about time," came a deep voice. Priscella snapped her gaze to the side and she saw who the voice belonged to.

The word died on her tongue but still she muttered aloud, "Uno?"

Uno nodded. "I'm tired of you and your attitude," she said darkly. "But I must be honest—you work better than Marcella did."

Priscella frowned. "I don't understand."

"I'll give you a choice," Uno stepped around the older girl and claimed a seat on a rotten tree trunk that appears the tree had fallen over with the wind. "Cease what you are doing or follow in the same footsteps as Marcella."

"Marcella?"

"I killed her several months ago," Uno said flatly. "For much the same cause I'm about to with you."

Priscella's face paled. "You're not serious," she muttered under her breath. "What have I done?"

"Meg and Charline tell me you're spreading rumours," Uno explained. "That I'm only _playing_ friends with Christine in hopes of getting her gold."

"But you are." Priscella sounded as if she believed her confused consumption.

Uno frowned. "If I wanted her money I'd kill her, marry Raoul, and then have him die in what appears to look like an accident. This is Paris of the late eighteen hundreds—I could get away with anything."

Priscella pushed herself up to a standing position. "Then why play these games? I know you really can't stand the Viscountess."

Uno shrugged. "That's cause she's a timid mouse and I'm a vicious lion. But I never said I didn't like her."

"I know you want the De Chagny money," the girl shoved into the conversation.

Uno frowned. "I don't need it. Where I come from, I own practically all of humanity and everything with it."

Priscella frowned, truly confused now. "Where are you from?"

"… Another world," Uno muttered before standing. "But pick your choice: stop or die."

"Oh gee, that _really_ sounds like a decent decision," the girl mused. "I think I'll want to die."

"Fine." Within an instant Uno had whipped out a knife from behind her and flung it out at the other girl. Priscella yelped and grasped her right shoulder where the blade dug in deeply.

"Uno!"

Uno shrugged. "You chose die."

"I wasn't serious!"

"Than you shouldn't have said that." Uno stepped up to the whimpering ballerina and withdrew the knife without caring about extra injuries. "At least I didn't do to you what I did to Marcella."

Priscella whimpered. "You're delusional." Uno's brows raised and she turned her head at an angle. "You think you are high and mighty and you are nothing but the lifeless scum that is found on the streets of the Paris shopping district late at night."

"A whore?" Uno formulated.

"And nothing more!"

Her eyes narrowed. "_Hel hath geen woede... noch doe ik._" (Translation from Dutch: "Hell hath no fury... nor do I.") She flung the knife into the left shoulder and ignored Priscella's scream. Instantly, like before, she withdrew the blade and let the body fall to the ground. Uno stared down at the tortured figure below her and grinned.

"_Ich werde Sie bedenken... spielt mit Feuer nicht._" (Translation from German: "Mind you... don't play with fire.") She put the knife back into the sheath behind her back and hoisted Priscella to her feel, keeping certain both hands are pressing painfully down on the wounded shoulders. Uno pinned the girl's body agains the same slab that Marcella was once pinned to. She took out several smaller but sharper knives out of her pockets to staple Priscella's chemise to the slab.

"It's cold," Priscella murmured.

Uno nodded in agreement. "You didn't feel it before because you were geared up and on fire with rage and fury," she explained. "But now that you're injured and slowly dying, you'll feel even colder than before. But it's alright—I didn't hit anything vital. You won't die from these two wounds alone."

Priscella whimpered. "What else do you plan to do to me, _wenchi_?"

Uno shrugged. "Perhaps keep you out here to freeze to death? I dunno'." She glanced down to see the deep crimson snow around her feet and watched as more of the blood dribbled down the once white chemise of the older girl. "Either way—you're blood is mine."

"You're a vixen of Hell," Priscella hissed out. "A true mistress for the devil."

Uno shrugged and stared her enemy in the eyes. "So I'm the Devil's Mistress—fine by me."

She heard a gasp coming from the trees towards her left. Both girls turned in that direction and saw a man standing there, eyes fixed on the scene before him, and moonlight radiating off of his white mask. Priscella's face paled upon noticing the phantom near her and Uno paled for fear of being caught.

The she paused when she realized who it was.

"It's him!" Priscella spat out. "He's here!"

"Erik," Uno growled. She turned towards him and advanced. Erik took a quick step backwards. "Why did you follow me?"

"Uno—y-you've injured her." Erik's eyes were huge with shock and he stared down at the outrageous diva before him. "Why?"

"She deserves to die," Uno said flatly. "And now that you've seen you'll have to, as well."

A flash of triumph crossed his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Why did you have to follow me!" She yelled out. "Why—I wasn't going to be out long!"

"Tell me," Erik began, "were you behind the disappearance of Marcella, as well?"

"I warned her just the same," Uno snapped. "She should have listened."

"You killed her."

Uno breathed deeply. "Erik… why did you follow me?"

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered, staring into her eyes in disbelief. "You are plaguing yourself with sin, with bloodshed."

"I told you I don't believe in sin," she mumbled. "And it's too late to flee from bloodshed—I killed since I was thirteen and I've seen dead bodies since I was three."

Erik frowned. "Why?"

"I had no choice," she said softly, feeling as if she were more than guilty for what she's done in her past. "I had to."

"Don't do this, Uno. Please," he urged. "Blood should not stain a hand as pure as yours."

"Pure?" She snorted out. "My hands haven't been pure since my father took me in off the streets after my mother died trying to save me."

"I will not tell anyone if you stop this and turn away from it all," he tried.

"And what of her?" Uno turned and shot an accusing finger at Priscella's still shocked figure. "Will you not care if she runs around the theater spreading even _more_ lies about me?"

"Now that I know you and the phantom co-exist in secret," Priscella addly in smugly. Uno turned to stare at her with confusion and Erik narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Ignore her," Erik rushed out. "She makes no sense."

Uno turned back to him. "Leave me, Erik. I need to do this."

"I will not leave."

"Please?"

"Uno—you shouldn't do this," he said to her. "This is wrong."

"Say it to the five other people I've killed in the last few months that I've been here," she shot back. Erik gasped and took another step back. "Say it to _them_, Erik! Say it to the two drunken stage handlers that I killed at the start of my arrival! Say it to the two drunken bums that I killed in front of Charline so they wouldn't rape us! Say it to Marcella, despite my threats!"

"Uno," Erik gasped aloud. "You can't be serious!"

"_I am serious!_" She screamed aloud. "I _have_ to finish this, Erik!" He stared at her in disbelief. "I have to or else it would never stop! She is in my way and I cannot have her jeaprodizing whatever decent life I can live here! Whatever peace I wish to attain she'll ruin!"

"Uno…"

"I _have_ to!" Erik looked into Uno's desperate, pleading eyes and found they were filling with tears. "I can't keep running from my fate if my fate will kep chasing after me!"

He grasped both of her shoulders fiercely. "Stop this at once! You are stronger than this—you shouldn't let this fury and rage overcome you, Uno!"

"_No!_" She fought back. "No, Erik! You don't understand!"

"I _do_!" He returned equally. "I _do_ understand, Uno!" He shook her. "I've lived a life just the same and I've had no choice _but_ to live it because my mother had sold me to it—_you_ can get out whenever you want."

"No I can't, Erik!" She corrected. "My father died protecting me—my friends and family all died protecting me and I can't let them down!" She pushed off him. "Just let me do this—it _has_ to be done!"

"No!" Erik tried at grabbing her again but Uno began pounding her fists on his chest. "Uno—_listen to me!_"

"No! You don't understand—I'm haunted by my past and unless I keep this up I won't escape it!"

He finally grabbed her and shook her again. "Stop!"

"Go away," she urged. "I _have_ to finish this, Erik! Let me finish this!"

"Uno!"

"_I have to kill her!_" Erik paused to breath and stared into her tearfilled eyes. Slowly, the tears began falling in fast motion, cascading down her cheeks. "I have no choice," she whispered.

Erik frowned and felt his heart breaking just the same. "Uno," he murmured. "Why do you live on like this?"

"Just go," Uno repeated. "I have to kill her."

He didn't wait for another one of her remarks. He simply bent his head and claimed her lips. Uno closed her eyes and returned his kiss, her hands grasping hold of his upper arms and holding on for dear life. The tears continued to fall as their lips opened and the kiss deepened. Erik's hands fell away from her shoulders when the kiss finally broke. He glanced down at the quivering girl below him, holding onto his arms as if she would fall if he weren't there, and waited for something to happen.

Uno was staring at his chest, her watery eyes fixiated on his dark clothes. She breathed deeply and felt her earlier strength returning. Releasing his arms, she kept her voice low and her eyes away from his.

"Go back, Erik," she commanded softly.

Erik nodded. "Don't stay out too late."

Uno nodded her head in return. When Erik lifted her chin she didn't fight back. When he kissed her again, she returned his kiss. When he backed away she only stared at his face and into his eyes.

When he left on the horse he came with she realized who her third crush was.

Priscella's eyes were narrowed in on the braided diva. She watched intensely as Uno returned to the stapled dancer on the slab and sneered.

"You're the phantom's mistress," she seethed out. "I should have guessed."

"He's a patron," Uno murmured, only half-listening to what Priscella was saying.

"Yeah right," she snorted back. "A patron that owns everyone."

Uno closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. "Turok?"

_What is it, Uno,_ Turok sounded just as sullen as she did.

"… I need your help."

Priscella looked disgusted. "Who are you talking to?"

_Just say my other name and we'll begin,_ he said soothingly, knowing the previous argument was hard on her.

Uno took a deep, steadying breath, nodded her head, and stared satanically into the ballerina's eyes. She took a deep breath and as she release it, said aloud, "Zero."

* * *

**To those who recall from Gundam Wing when Quatre needed to take control of the team with battle strageties and so he turns on the Zero mode--by typing in 'Z-E-R-O' into the command controls... you'll understand what happens here.**

**Uno's become weak now that Turok had died down and let her attempt at being normal. Because of this, she can't rely on him as much as she used to in the other chapters and the other stories. For this reason, when she WANTS to rely on the computer program that's smarter than all of human life combined, she simply says the name of the program (Zero) and it begins. Turok is who she now refers to and Zero is what starts up her original, blood-thirsty self you see at the beginning of DC3 and all throughout DC2.**

**By the way... did anyone here like the slight Erik and Uno-ness?**


	29. Breaking The Rules

**(sighs) Stress... I hate stress. I hate classes. I hate life. I hate work. I just hate everything. Does anybody do modeling or photography as a career? I need a boost... I want to model. I'm thinking of becoming a Suicide Girl. I have the body and the looks. Just SOMEBODY email me with some sort of job scouting... modeling, computer graphic art, web design--whatever. I need a job. **

**Also... look at my other account: Erin Kassikay. I posted stories under that name now. If you like Uno or you like RAOUL BASHING, look at Erin Kassikay's story, Bullet Tears. There's Raoul bashing in there.**

**This is 11 pages. Next chapter will be longer.**

* * *

- Chapter Twenty-Nine -

"You're… horrible," Priscella coughed out. A little trail of blood ran down from the corner of her lips and pools around the base of her head. "A monster," she whispered.

Uno stared down at her enemy, her violet eyes glued to the painful expression on the other girl's face. Her jaw was clenched together and her fists balled at her side. Blood had splattered itself on her clothing and her hands were basically covered in it. Priscella's skin was as pale as a ghost from the cold snow beneath her.

Uno bent down over the girl's figure, gripped the collar of her gown with one hand while her other constantly send hammering fists down into the already crooked nose. Uno knew how to kill a person brutally and she also knew how to brutally beat a man up with_out_ killing them.

"Stop!" Priscella screamed. "_Please!_"

Uno punched her one last time before releasing her collar. She stood back up and backed away from the crippled body. With a sneer, she turned away and put her back to the dancer.

"You sicken me."

Priscella rolled onto her side and began coughing the excess blood out of her mouth. She covered her face with her hands and felt around on her injuries, wincing all the while the pain stung.

"Why… are you so… horrible?" Priscella whined out. She turned to face Uno and slowly Uno turned around to let Priscella catch a good clear view of her glazed eyes.

Uno replied monotoned. "Normal humans sicken me," she stated clearly. "They piss me off and agrivate me because they take everything for granted."

Priscella frowned. "I don't understand."

Uno took two steps closer to the hurt figure beneath her. "I've always wanted to be normal and live a normal life but I never could. I've always wanted to live without bloodshed in my life, without constant fighting and without wars and battles, but I wasn't bred for that. I was born due to a war, I was raised in the middle of one, and I was prepared since birth to fight in it,"' she explained. "The only reason the war ended is because I knew how to stop it."

"_There is no war!_" Priscella roared out.

Uno neared the figure again, her eyes still lifeless and glazed over in utter torment. Without Turok's help she wouldn't have lasted as long as she had in the snow, beating the ballerina into a pulp. But since Turok was controlling her as his puppet, she had no limits.

"_Uno!_"

"You're a horrible person."

Uno knelt back down, grabbed the collar of her gown, and began delivering punches into her face once more. After another several blows to the already failing body she backed away and returned to her horse where her medkit was stored. She skimmed through the syringes and found the one she was in search of. After sliding it out of the compartment she returned to the body and quickly stabbed Priscella's right elbow with the needle. The burning chemicals soared into the girl's body, sending new torrents of paint into her system.

"This is a chemical to heal everything I've done to you," Uno explained. "As you can tell, the pain in your face, limbs, and chest is disappearing."

Priscella stared up at Uno in wonder. Then suddenly, Uno ripped the needle out of the girl's arm, leaving behind half of the metal tip beneath the skin, and tossed the syringe off to the side. Priscella screamed and covered her arm as she rolled to the side, the new pain holding her back from trying to escape.

Uno turned away and stepped over towards a tree. "Lower your voice," she demanded coolly. "You're annoying and it's irritating to hear."

"That hurt," Priscella whined.

"So what?" She kicked snow away from the base of a tree then stopped when her foot collided with something hard. "It's not like you're going to die in pain."

"What?"

Uno bent over and wrapped her fingers around the wooden handle. "You act as if I'm going to kill you."

Relief washed over Priscella and she breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought you were planning to."

"No," Uno admitted. "It's too easy to the both of us that way." She stood up and turned back to Priscella, wielding the shovel in her hands.

"Uno… what are you doing?" Priscella sat up and stared at the shovel before turning back to her enemy.

"I burned Marcella's body after I was finished with her but see… I spent two days tending to it all and wouldn't leave until her ashes were scattered."

"And you're planning on letting _me_ go, right?" Priscella tried. "I mean… you don't wish to kill me, right?"

Uno turned away and stepped up to an empty spot of land in the little knook they stood in. "You're too wishful," she murmured. "You actually think you're going to live much longer." Uno began digging.

"Then what do you plan to do?"

"You'll see."

"Uno?"

"I'm going to plant some flowers," she replied dryly.

"Tell me the truth, God damn it!" Priscella shot to her feet and Uno stopped to stare at her rival. "I'm tired of you playing around the bush. Tell me your plans!" Uno ignored her and turned back to digging. "Ugh… you're pitiful."

Uno noticed that she was turning around and preparing to leave so Uno quickly withdrew another knife from behind her back and flung it out. It got Priscella in the back between her shoulderblades. The girl screamed and spun back around. She tripped over her own foot, causing her to fall forward and onto her knees. Blood poured out of the newly created wound. She stared back up at Uno in pain, the already dried blood still on her face and her nose still broken and bent to the side. Uno ignored Priscella and continued digging a very deep and wide hole.

"Uno…" Priscella murmured. "Why?" Uno ignored her once again and in no time, Priscella's vision blacked out and she fell forward.

After Uno finished with the hole she lifted Priscella up into a sitting position, removed the blade, and shook the body until the girl woke up. Priscella looked around then saw Uno and instantly became terrified.

"Why did you stab me?"

Uno frowned. "I give you credit… you're a _very_ strong woman."

Priscella raised her head, tilted her chin up, and squared her shoulders back. "I demand to know what you're going to do to me."

"Bold too," Uno added in. "But stupid."

Priscella frowned. "How can I be stupid?"

Uno stood up and held the body in her arms. "Because you should know _not_ to badmouth your enemy—especially when your enemy has the upper hand." She carried the girl towards the hole.

"What are you talking about?" Uno stared at Priscella as she suspended the body over the hole. "Uno?"

"Very stupid," Uno murmured. She dropped Priscella without a care and the girl shrieked then winced in pain as the hard cold ground came in impact with her wounded back. Priscella paused and glanced around then up at her enemy.

"What are you doing?"

Without saying anything Uno began shoveling the dirt and snow back into the hole, ignoring Priscella's protests and screams. Each time Uno dumped snow and dirt into the hole Priscella coughed, unable to get up and at attempt at escaping.

Uno made _damn_ certain that stab wound in the girl's back hurt so much it would be hard to stand straight if even at all.

After a good two hours the whole was filled with a living body buried beneath it all. Uno tossed the shovel off to the side of the knook and walked away from it all. She used the snow to wash off the blood from her hands and clothes, picked up the knives and cleaned them just the same, replaced them in their sheaths behind her back, then straddled Hercules and escaped the forest.

When she returned to her dormitory she was weary and hardly able to keep her eyes open. Not even able to take off her clothing she collapsed onto her bed and fell fast asleep.

_Good job, Uno_, Turok had told her. _You are slowly becoming human._

_After Colony 210_

_Calendar years: 4514_

The cemetery was as quiet as ever with the warm winds blowing around the fallen leaves from the various trees. Statues of angels and serene figures stood before the graves, sending silent prayers down onto the deceased. Everybody in the grave yard was dead.

Except for one.

Justin sighed and stared down at the marble tomb stone with dried roses covering the grave. He frowned, knowing that if he could turn back time he'd not let the poor girl die, which in turn would allow Uno to live a decent life. If she were to live a decent life then she would have been happier.

There was a sound of a broken twig behind him.

"Justin," came the familiar voice of his old comrade.

"Vincent," Justin replied equally.

"I was told you're here." Vincent stuffed his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket. "Chris told me you normally come here on Sundays." Justin nodded. "Still looking for that ray of hope?"

"I visited his grave again, too." Vincent frowned and glanced down at the tomb before them. "It was both who had made Uno become who she was. The both of them were her family." Vincent heaved a sigh. "Too bad she couldn't save them as she saved us from our fate."

"She made a choice," Vincent explained. "Just like she made the choice of fighting."

Justin nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

Vincent stared at the tombstone before saying the contents aloud. "Theresa Charline Sanders, AC189 to AC204… 'May she forever remain in our hearts as the princess that she was'."

Justin shut his eyes and bowed his head as he sent a silent prayer to Uno's best friend. Vincent frowned at the little engraved statement.

"Hm… it's almost as if Uno wrote it out herself."

"Ricky's got a tomb," Justin said before turning away from the grave.

"I know," Vincent turned to him, "because it's the other grave you go visit besides this one."

"I still wonder why they put what they had on it." Justin turned to see Vincent's frown. "It reads 'Son of Glory but loved by one'."

Vincent's lips tugged into a small smile. "Danial knew his son was in love with Uno."

"But why mark his grave with the knowledge of it?" Justin pondered. "Did he give up on his son's feelings? Ricky had always been trying to kill her and took her best friend in the process."

Vincent shrugged. "Perhaps he figured Ricky deserved peace, for a change." Justin turned away and began retreating towards his car, Vincent following from behind. "Why don't you ever set a tomb for Uno?"

"Because I don't believe she's dead," Justin said simply. He kept his head bowed. "Uno's too much a fighter—she wouldn't be taken down that easily."

"Uno's only human," Vincent reminded him. "Old age would catch up."

"She's not dead," Justin repeated.

"Justin—"

Justin rounded on him. "_She's not dead!_" Vincent paused and stared his friend in the eyes. "I can't accept that Uno's may have died—I _won't_!"

He hesitated before nodding and bowing his head in shame. "Sorry," Vincent murmured.

"Everyday I live with the knowledge that something's happened to her and I may never see her again," Justin explained. "But I know she's still alive and out there, afraid to come home. I just know it."

"Mandy tells me you plan to go to her."

Justin nodded and turned to stare at his car off in the distance where it sat. "If Uno won't come home then I'll find her and drag her back with me," he explained. "Whether or not she approves—she belongs here."

"She might kill you."

Justin continued his previous pace towards his car. With a murmur, he said, "Then so be it."

_Calendar years: 1873_

Uno stepped up to her vanity table when she woke later. There was a letter with the unmistakable skull-seal on the envelope. Taking a seat and picking up the thornless rose that lay besides it, Uno turned to glance briefly into the vanity mirror before turning back to the letter. Placing the rose back down, she began pulling the note out.

_Uno_

_I must say you have surprised me last night. I could not picture anyone, man or _especially_ a woman, to do what you have done. I am sure you have officially gone through what you claimed you would do. You are not yet awake and I am off to watch the ballet rehearse. I have not yet seen Priscella and I realize that you are quite serious with your words and life._

_You have stunned me, once again, Uno._

_I have decided to let you go on with your life and not interfere anymore as I had originally planned. From the first time I saw you I had planned on using you, learning everything there is about you so that I may use it against you, but you have proven me wrong many times and also proven yourself quite a talented girl, capable of fooling me in plenty ways within plenty times. I have decided to cease my foolish games if you agree to explain your reasoning to me._

_If you do not, I will submit your name and crimes to the police._

_O.G._

Uno gaped at the letter, her mouth opened and eyes wide. She turned the note over and read the unmistakable words of '_Heed my warnings_' before scanning the letter's contents once again. Her breath was still caught in her lungs and after coughing, she finally managed to grasp a little more air.

"Turn me in?" She breathed out. "That… I can't believe him!" Her limbs began to shake. "That scum!"

There was a tap on her door and without a second thought she allowed them in. Charline entered and shut the door but stopped in her place when she saw Uno staring at a letter, her arms shaking.

"Uno?" Charline asked meekly.

"Charline I'm scared."

Charline felt taken aback. Uno… scared? No way.

"What?" She neared her friend like a timid mouse.

"Remember that time you saw me kill those two men?" Uno said, not glancing up from the letter she was holding. Charline frowned, remembering the deaths of the two rapists Uno had caused several months back. She tried to glance around her friend's shoulder and see the letter but she instead turned and stared down at her own feet.

"I remember," Charline said softly.

"I've killed more than just those two before and after I arrived here," Uno added in. "Five and as of last night, six."

Charline glanced at her. "Why are you telling me this, Uno?"

"Because somebody saw me kill Priscella last night." Charline gasped aloud. "I threatened I would have to kill him to and he urged me to stop. I begged him to leave so I could finish what I started and we kissed." Uno swallowed a gulp of fear before continuing. "And he said he would go and leave me to my duties."

"Alright."

Uno nodded. "But…" she handed Charline the letter. "Now he threatens me that he'll turn me in if I don't explain why I do what I do."

Charline frowned and took the letter from Uno. She read the contents and felt herself growing nervous just the same. "Uno… I-I don't know what to tell you." Charline placed the letter on the table and glanced over at the rose and skull seal. She frowned.

"I really don't."

"I've never been scared and unsure about myself until now," Uno admitted. "I've never had to admit defeat and I think I'll have no choice of the matter at this moment."

Charline bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

"What do I do?"

"Should I go get Madam Giry?" Uno shot a strict glare at her friend. "She could help."

"Don't you dare!"

"Uno—"

"I can't let anybody know, Charline." Uno stood up and turned away from the table and her friend. "You're the only one who knows how many people I've killed. Erik knows that I've killed a lot more and now he plans to use it against me."

"Yeah and if he turns you in it'll wreck your cover," Charline added in. Uno bit her lip and turned to her friend.

"I need to talk to you, later," she said. "About… that."

"Alright."

"Just not now."

"Okay."

Uno nodded. "Do me a favor."

"Hm?"

"Erik," Uno pointed to the table where the scattered items sat, "he's a patron of the Opera Populaire."

"Alright?"

Uno nodded. "Find out for me how important he is." Charline frowned. "I need to do something about his threat before he does something about mine."

"You plan to kill him." It wasn't a question; Charline knew Uno too well.

Uno nodded in agreement. "I need to know how important he is to the Opera Populaire. If I killed Raoul de Chagny the theater would be in torment but Erik… who knows."

Charline nodded. "I'll see what I can do. What is his last name?"

"I don't know—he never told me."

"Alright." Charline frowned at the skull seal. "But I don't think he's a patron."

"Hm?"

"Well…" She picked up the envelope and glanced at the seal of a skull. "I was told the owner uses a skull as the seal for his letters."

Uno frowned and turned away in thought. "Last night," she began, "Priscella called Erik the owner and called me his mistress."

"I wouldn't listen to what that girl has to say, anyways." Charline put the envelope back down. "Mindless rats, if you ask me."

Uno nodded in agreement. "Yeah but… she wouldn't just say things. And Christine once told me that what happened in her past—the man was of high importance to the theater and he hid behind a façade as well, being shunned down as a monster for all his life."

Charline shrugged. "What do you assume?"

Uno turned to frown at her. "And he lives in an underground cave beneath the theater…"

"You think he's the owner as well?"

"I don't know."

"I'll find out," she assured. "Meg knows everything."

Uno nodded. "Thank you, Charline."

"What are you going to do today?"

"Well the Masquerade Ball is in a few weeks—I'll need Madam Wilma to make me another gown."

"I thought you looked glamourous last time," Charline said before grinning. "A true beauty."

Uno nodded. "Yeah and Erik hit on me, too."

Charline frowned. "Hit on you?"

"I meant… he flirted with me."

"Oh."

"Yeah—I thought, after kissing me last night that he liked me. But now he threatens to turn me in?" Uno sulked. "He's really low scum."

Charline frowned, still not understanding the type of words Uno was using. "Some men treat women like nothing other than trophies."

"Which is why I need you to do some research for me," she said. "Before he can melt this trophie down to liquid gold I need to put him in his place once and for all."

Charline grinned. "I'll do just that. As I said, Meg knows all."

"Good." Uno took a deep breath. "I'll meet back up with you at dinner at the French Quartet."

Charline paused. "French Quartet?"

"Yeah. I'll take you out to dinner for more than just thanks of helping, but also as a friend." Uno smirked. "I don't make friends that often."

Charline snorted and crossed her arms. "I can tell. You're too busy killing them before they can learn anything about you."


	30. The Masquerade Ball

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* * *

- Chapter Thirty -

"The dress wasn't simple," said Madam Wilma as she pointed out the seams of Uno's Masquerade Ball Gown, "but it wasn't as hard as your Prime Ball Gown, either."

Uno inspected the fabrics with a frown. "This is the same fabric I brought you?"

The woman nodded. "My guess is that it was once used as costume fabric for the theater," she replied. "You said you found it beneath the bed?"

"Yeah—the room used to be one of the seamstress's rooms."

The woman shrugged and turned to the counter in the back of the store, a room before the back room where she left Uno behind. "Oh well," she said on a whime. "Here's the gloves that go with the dress."

Uno followed the woman with a curious gaze. "Gloves?" She received the black and red striped gloves and frowned down at them. "You made me gloves?"

"There was left over material and instead of trashing it I figured you could use the spare." Madam Wilma smiled suddenly. "I think you'll look ravishing. I know that Ball Gown did."

Uno nodded. "Yeah—thanks again for everything."

The woman nodded as well. "Any man who saw you that night probably found his heart stolen."

Uno remembered Erik's reaction and paused.

"And after tomorrow night I'm certain that man may actually make a move to steal yours."

Now she felt her blood run thin.

"Thanks," Uno murmured slowly. "And here's the payment."

Madam Wilma received the pouch of francs and glanced inside. "More as usual?"

Uno stifled a weak smile. "You deserved it."

"Right you are," the woman retorted. "But not from you." She turned to her cash register and rang up the machine. "A man came in here earlier and demanded his costume be tailored to fit his new body and ordered it be finished by this evening or he'll make sure I get closed down by the police."

Uno frowned at the woman. "He threatened you?" The woman nodded silently. "But… couldn't you just kick him out of the store?"

Madam Wilma shot a frightened gaze in her customer's direction. "Not this man, no."

"Why not?"

"He's already managed to _own_ the police station and the theater—if I did that he'd own me too and I can't have that." She turned back to the machine and mumbled beneath her breath, "I've worked too hard to make this store last."

"Own the theater?"

"And the police," Wilma added in. "No body has the strength to stand up to him—he's _that_ powerful and he knows it, too."

Uno felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Charline spoke earlier about the owner of the theater and mentioned how she would help Uno figure him out. Priscella had called Uno the owner's mistress.

_What's the fucking connection?_ She asked herself. _What the Hell is going on here?_

"So will this be it?"

Uno snapped out of her daze and stared back at the woman with a blank stare. "Uh—yeah." She smiled weakly. "Thanks."

The woman nodded briefly and planted her fists on her hips. After a quick glance at the customer's body she frowned and asked, "What do you plan to wear on your feet?"

Uno looked down at her thin shoes with a frown. "Um…probably what I'm wearing now."

The woman heaved a sigh and nodded. "Probably wouldn't matter," she said. "Your feet won't be showing anyways. I'd wear black shoes, though. This gown wouldn't match those you have on now."

Uno nodded. "I can borrow a pair."

"Very well. Let me help you get the gown off the mannequin and you can be on your way."

"Alright."

-

"Meg?" Charline stepped up to the petite blonde with a weak smile.

"Hello Charline—where's Uno?"

"She had an erran to run," Charline glanced around the stage and saw the other ballerinas. "Still rehearsing?"

Meg snickered. "Mother thinks I've achieved the best but I think I can go on. Some of the girls want to practice more, as well."

"Can I talk to you privately?"

Meg frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I have a few questions that's been bugging me."

Meg nodded. "Let me… yeah… hang on." Charline watched Meg quickly prance away to tell another dancer she was leaving before returning. "Alright. Where do you want to go?"

"Any place where no body can hear us," Charline said glancing around.

Meg frowned. "I know of one place."

Charline nodded and followed her friend.

When Meg said she knew of a place Charline didn't think it to be her mother's room. She entered the Ballet Mistress's room timidly and glanced around, as if she were a mouse in the snake pit and the snakes have yet to notice her. Every move she made was light and careful.

"Mother is in a meeting with the managers," Meg said to calm Charline. "It's alright to be in here."

"Why is this the only place that came to mind?" Charline stepped quickly over to the sette and took a seat. Meg sat down across from her in a chair and frowned.

"All other places can still be heard," she informed. "No where is safe but this room, really."

"The chapel?"

"_Especially_ the chapel," Meg said sharply. "I never believed it but Christine had told me." Charline frowned and Meg noticed the weary gaze on her friend. "What's the matter? Why come to me and not Uno?"

"That's what's been troubling the both of us, actually."

"Huh?"

Charline glanced at Meg with a serious frown. "Somebody is after Uno." Meg gasped and Charline stilled her by bringing a hand in the air. "No surprise, really."

"But _who_?" Meg leaned in. "Marcella has disappeared long ago and now they're giving up the search for Priscella."

Charline felt her spine tingle. "Yeah," she agreed weakly. "Priscella." She knew Priscella had died—Uno had confirmed it.

"The man sends her letter with a skull seal in crimson," Charline said softly. Meg gasped, her eyes as wide as saucers, and covered her mouth. Charline frown and pulled back briefly.

"What?"

"You're toying with me—say you're toying with me," Meg raced out. "_Please!_"

Charline shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered. "Why?"

"He's after Uno?" Meg's voice was weak with fear. "If she fights him he'll kill her."

Charline's world came to a halt. "Who?"

"Erik."

Charline nodded, familiarized with the same name Uno had used when she explained her problems.

"Erik?" Charline repeated. At Meg's quick nod she added in, "The same patron of the theater, right?"

Meg frowned. "Patron? He _owns_ this theater!" Charline gasped. "He owns _all_ of us including the police station, the music stores, and whatever else he desires to own out of Paris. He's a great and powerful man but… but…"

"But what?"

"But he's easily taken," Meg whispered.

"Taken?"

Meg closed her eyes and groaned aloud. "Oh I should have seen this coming."

"Seen what coming?"

"I feel so horrible that I didn't do anything about it!"

Charline leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her friend's knee. "What's the matter? What happened?"

Meg stared Charline in the eyes before replying. "The night of the Prime Ball," she paused and Charline nodded, "Erik had danced with her. I was so speechless I just stood shocked as he took Uno away to dance." Charline gaped at her but remained quiet. "I thought Uno knew who he was but when I noticed she was smiling and having fun I realized she probably had no clue."

"She told me he had kissed her," Charline added in. Meg gasped in alarm once again. "I fear for Uno's safety but… I mean I know she can handle herself only… this is the one feat I fear she may struggle with."

Meg nodded. "Christine struggled but managed to win." Charline frowned and Meg explained. "He was once in love with Christine and tried to keep her. Raoul nearly died in the process and to save his life, Christine agreed to stay with Erik. I think Erik came to himself and let her go out of pity, because of how she chose to stay to let him live."

"But Uno…" Charline trailed off.

"Charline," Meg said, "she _has_ to be warned."

Charline nodded. "I know."

"How long has this been going on?"

"I'm not sure but… if I know Uno… months. She said she's been receiving lessons at night from him for a while now."

Meg heaved a sigh. "My mother has to be warned." Meg stood up.

"No!" Charline shot to her feet and grasped Meg's shoulders firmly. "Uno doesn't want anybody else knowing!"

"Charline—my mother has known Erik all her life," Meg explained. She wrapped her fingers around Charline's elbows and gently pulled Charline's hands away from her body. "If anybody knows Erik it's my mother. Let her talk to Erik and settle things out."

"No!"

"Charline—"

"Uno will kill you and Madam Giry and _then_ Erik, Meg!" Charline raced out without thinking. Meg frowned at the confession. "She has killed Marcella, Priscella, and several others." The petite blonde gasped in fright and pure shock. "She has killed the two stage men long ago and a few staggering bums outside not long after. Meg—_please_, for your safety and mine!"

"She… she has killed Marcella and Priscella?" Meg asked in a whisper. Charline nodded. "She has told you this?"

"And I witnessed her kill the two bums outside," Charline admitted. "Please Meg—tell _no_ one any of this."

Meg frowned down at the ground. "Alright," she said weakly. "But what do you think she plans on doing?"

"I don't know," Charline said honestly. She pulled back from Meg and frowned down at the floor as well. "But you cannot let her know I told you _any_ of this, please!"

Meg nodded. "Okay… I won't say a word."

Charline nodded. "Good. I must go and warn her. Uno's in danger tonight."

Meg agreed. "She is if she sees Erik."

"Yeah and if he showed up at the Prime Ball he'll show up again."

Meg nodded. "He's bound to."

"Keep your eyes on Uno, please?" Meg nodded. "I will. _You_ keep your eyes on the hallways around the foyar tonight and keep an eye out for Erik. He moves like a ghost but he can still be seen if you look close enough."

Charline smirked. "Opera Ghost?"

"O.G." Meg retorted.

"Yeah he signed that on a letter he wrote Uno."

Both girls heaved a great sigh and Meg squared her shoulders back. "Good luck, Charline."

Charline patted Meg's shoulder briefly. "You'll need it more, Meg."

"Are you going to tell her?" Charline nodded. "Do you think it's wise to tell her before the ball?"

"I have to."

"But what if she attacks you?"

Charline shrugged. "I'm an American like her—I can handle hot blood."

-

Charline tapped fiercely on Uno's door and didn't stop until the braided diva opened it. Finally, the door swung open and there on the other side of the threshold stood a much outraged woman. Charline swallowed hard before speaking.

"I need to talk to you."

"I'm quite busy, Charline," Uno spat. "Can't this wait?"

"No." Charline attempted at pushing Uno to the side to make her way into the room but didn't get very far. Instead, she didn't get anywhere. Uno pushed her back out into the hallway.

"Uno," Charline tried.

"Charline I'm busy. I have to get ready for the ball." Uno begin closing the door. "I'll talk to you later."

"Uno wait!" Charline stuck her hand on the door and pushed. "This is important," she whined out.

"So is this ball," Uno shot back. "Now go away."

"Uno—why are you so harsh right now?" Charline stood and stared at her friend. "Why won't you let me in while you dress? We're both women."

Uno growled. "I have no time for this, Charline. It's late enough and I have to get dressed."

"I can help—"

"No."

"Your hair—"

"No."

"Your gown—"

"No."

"Uno—"

"No."

"Damn it, Uno!" Charline shouted. "_Let me in!_"

"No."

Charline fumed. "You're acting like La Carlotta! As if you have a dead rodent up your—"

"Charline I really don't have time for this," Uno said on a whim as if pressed by royal time. She heaved a heavy, fake sigh and begin closing the door, all while acting pompous. "You'll have to get back at me later or perhaps tomorrow afternoon."

"You pompous prick!" Charline spat out as the door closed.

"I _could_ have your head for that if I ruled the world in this era," Uno commented. "But too bad you'll have to wait several millennia's for that to happen."

The door closed.

"Uno—you no good for nothing spoiled brat!" Charline fumed and begin storming off. "I hope you get what's coming to you!"

-

Uno locked the door and turned around. She stepped up to the box her gown was stuffed in and removed the lid. An aroma of roses fled within the air—gratitude from Madam Wilma's respect of the amount Uno had paid. The regal formation of the gown, combined with the openness of the collar and corset, made its own category of eighteen-hundred's Paris.

Just as Uno was lifting out the gown she heard a dark chuckle in the back of her mind.

_You _so_ deserved the remark Charline made after you shut the door,_ said Turok.

"Get lost, creep." Uno held the gown against her body and turned around. Turok stood leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, a look of humor on his face.

"My my my—aren't we a little bent today?"

"Turok," Uno spun to him and snarled. "I have no time for this, alright? I've got to prepare for this stupid ball."

Turok simply shrugged. "Not my fault you took your precious time leaving Madam Wilma's and returning to the theater."

Uno laid the gown over the back of a chair and begin unhooking her gown from behind. "I had things to do," she said.

"So you keep poor Charline out in the cold when you could invite her into the room and talk with her while you get ready?" Turok glanced off to the side and frowned. "If only Duo could see you now."

Uno, gown half-unhooked, spun around to face him with fury laced in her eyes. "Don't you dare start in with me!"

Turok shrugged casually and glanced the other direction. "Hey—you're the one acting like a royal bitch here. All she was trying to do is help you as you asked."

"Yeah and I have no time for it right now." Uno continued unhooking the back of her gown. Suddenly, the front fell forward and revealed her full rounded breasts. "I spent too much time trying to lie to the police."

"Ya' know," Turok paused and cocked his head to the side as he stroked his chin. "Staring at your chest makes me realize something."

Uno removed the gown from her body entirely. "What?"

"You're top heavy for your age."

She frowned. "Come again?"

He pointed towards her breasts. "But… I think it could be Morris's blood that caused it to happen. After all, he _did_ make you perfect in every way possible."

She rolled her eyes. "Enough with your talk."

Turok grinned. "You stuck up brat." He watched Uno slip the corset on and struggle to lace it up in the back using only a mirror as support. "You're so selfish and think only of yourself."

"That's right," she whimpered out while lacing up her own corset. "I'm so selfish I fight to protect everyone." She winced several times as she disconnected her shoulders to move her arms better in the lacing, and then reconnected them on her own. "I'm so selfish and think only of myself that I couldn't give a shit about saving the lives of millions."

She tied it together and turned back to Turok. "You make a lot of sense."

"I do," he admitted. "You always tried to kill yourself despite believing that the others couldn't do shit compared to you."

"They had decent lives before they were fed upon," she retorted.

He shrugged and continued on. "At the end of it all you killed _millions_ of civilians along with Synodd."

Uno nodded. "I went mad—you remember."

He grinned and pointed at her. "That I do. But if you really didn't care and didn't call yourself selfish to the point you had to fight the war alone—you would have let Synodd win." Uno frowned. "But you fought merely because you wanted vengeance for the family you thought was entirely dead when some of them were in hiding, your best friend who was killed in place of you, and a boyfriend who had used you up and killed himself in place of you." Uno turned away in thought. "Uno… you only fight to sustain your own reasons. Not anyone elses."

"Then so be it," she muttered before turning to retreieve her skirts. "At least I left them when it was finished."

"Finally, you did _some_thing good," he chuckled.

Uno rolled her eyes and finished getting ready. When she was finished she stood in front of the mirror and adjusted herself to look perfect. Her hair needed to be brushed and rebraided, makeup needed to be applied, and her gloves had to be put on. Besides that, she was good to go.

"You look very good," Turok admitted. If only he could cast a reflection Uno would smile in response. "I'd say you look very much like Shinimegami."

Uno nodded in approval. "Good. Duo's little girl is still alive."

He shrugged with a curt nod. "Yeah I'd say so. You showed everyone _Queen _Uno last time… now you can show them Shinimegami."

Uno smiled darkly. "Terrific."

Turok frowned suddenly. "Is that what you'll call yourself, though? Shinimegami? 'Cuz you know nobody will understand what that means and you can't very well go around calling yourself 'The Goddess of Death' and received pleasant words in return." Uno's smile turned into a frown. "You'll scare everyone off."

She causally shrugged and brushed the topic aside. "Then I'll go as the Black Death."

-

The hallways leading to the foyar were decorated with an assortment of golds and silvers. The runners along the floors trimmed in a dark gold and maroon. The walls tapered with drapes of silver and gold lining.

Uno had to admit the decorators had good taste.

"Uno!"

She growled. "Damn it, Charline." She turned around and saw Charline skid to a halt. "Not _now_!"

Charline gripped Uno's arm. "I _need_ to talk to you!"

"No!" She jerked her arm back. "It can wait until later." She fumed. "Go enjoy the party with the rest of the corpse de ballet."

Charline frowned. "Uno…"

"Let me have my own night to myself—_please_?" Uno snarled. "You can go down stairs and enjoy yourself while I spend my time lavishly faking smiles."

"But…"

"Go!" Uno pushed Charline away. "I don't have time for this petty nonsense, Charline. I'm a diva and I shouldn't be stealing time away from a ball talking to a lowerlevel."

Pain shot through Charline's chest and Uno could see it in her eyes. Tearing her gaze away from her friends, Uno heaved a sigh. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I'm sorry, Charline," Uno said softly. "I really am. I don't know what came over me and why I said that."

Charline was silent and when Uno turned to face her, found there were tears in her eyes and tears spilling down over her cheeks. A twisted agony spilled into Uno's heart when she noticed just how badly she had hurt her best friend.

"Charline," Uno outstretched an arm for support but the girl at wretched away as if Uno were a diseased beast. Uno sulked and pulled back.

"You can go to Hell," Charline spat out before turning and running away.

Uno hung her head and mentally kicked herself for being so harsh.

_That was really a low blow, Uno._ Turok lectured. _Don't forget… you used to be just like her at one point. And you still _would_ be if you weren't heard by who she was only trying to warn you from. You should have listened to her._

"Just…"

_Do you think Duo would have been proud to see you chose your royal status over a friend?_ Turok countered. Uno's eyes clenched tightly and her fists balled by her sides. _He would have been _ashamed_ of you._

She swallowed hard. "I'll apologize later."

_Why not now? The party can wait—you're friend cannot._

"The party can wait but my friend needs to rest," Uno explained. She raised her head and sniffled. Thank goodness she didn't cry—her makeup would have run. Instead, she collected herself, turned on her heels, kept her chin high and her shoulders back, and entered the party hall.

The foyar was decorated just like the hallways only more. It was elaborately designed with rich patterns and foliage, exquisite fabrics hanging down from above and connected to the balconies to form amazing works of art, and the statues have been polished and shined tremendously. Several of what Uno thought were statues appeared to move and she realized that it was just the workers dressed accordingly.

From the top step she gazed down at everyone and took a deep breath. There were more people standing there than what she was used to, more than what the Prime Ball had. Madam Giry stood in the back talking with Christine while Raoul danced with Meg. La Carlotta danced with her lover and several other faces she recognized from before and some new ones she has never seen twirled around as well.

Uno descended the stairs slowly, careful as to not trip and fall. She wore the same shoes as before and didn't care; nobody would be looking at her feet and even if they were, they wouldn't be able to see her feet hidden beneath her shoes. When she hit the landing Monsieur Firmin came up to her and smiled.

"And whom might you be tonight?"

Uno smiled. "Just call me the Black Death."

Firmin frowned. "The what? I couldn't make it out clearly—it sounded like you said the Black Death."

Uno nodded. "You heard correctly."

"Oh!" He bit his lowere lip. "Funny how you should say that…" As Uno turned to look around the manager to the time to notice her gown at a closer inspection. "Yes… I can see now."

"See what?" Uno asked.

"Your gown… the theme… you chose death." She turned to frown at him and found him staring at her costume instead. "Much like—"

"Much like who?"

"Oh nothing!" He sent her a weak smile. "I-it's nothing. I'm babbling." Firmin acted as if Andre were calling out to him and raised a hand in the air. "If you'd excuse me, please?"

He left and Uno stared after him.

_That was bizarre._

"No shit," she murmured.

"Well don't you look radiating?" Uno turned to see Madam Giry standing in front of her. "Another design by you?"

Uno smiled. "Yeah—something simple, this time."

"I can see that." She inspected Uno's gown with a frown. "What do you call yourself?"

"The Black Death." At Madam Giry's stunned gazed Uno frowned. "What? Why is everyone shocked at that name?"

"It's just that… there's another meaning behind it."

Uno nodded. "Yeah—and I'm portraying it, aren't I?"

"Are you?" The woman countered. Uno eyed her wearily.

"Good evening, Ladies." Raoul said with a smile. He noticed Uno's gown and the low neckline of the corset. "That's a lovely gown, Uno."

Uno smiled. "Thank you, Raoul." She curtsied, sure to give him a view. Raoul cleared his throat and waited until she stood back up. "So what may I call you tonight?"

Before Uno could replie Madam Giry answered for her. "Uno has decided of a Black Widow name," the woman said. "I find it fits very well, the colors matching a true Black Widow, that is."

Uno frowned over at the older woman. Raoul turned back and smiled brightly.

"Exquisite," he said. "May I inquire a dance with the Black Widow?"

"Um… sure." Uno gave Madam Giry a confused expression but the woman turned and watched as Raoul walked her out to the dancefloor. When set correctly, her hands on his elbows as his on her waist, the dance began.

"I must say I look forward to the gala."

Uno feined a blush. "Thanks… I just wish I wouldn't be singing in it."

"Well I hear that you're an excellent singer—if I recall, that is." He grinned and she turned to shy away. "But I've been told through the ballet that you're training to become an opera diva? Is this true?"

"Unfortunately," Uno replied breathlessly. "I have no choice in the matter. My professor won't take no for an answer or he'll have me removed."

Raoul stopped the dance and stared down at her with seriousness to his eyes. Uno frowned up at him.

"Raoul?"

"Tell me is name is Erik," he said softly. "It's him, isn't it?"

She frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"The man who's teaching you. Does he go by the alias 'the Angel of Music'?" He asked. "Does he consider himself the Opera Ghost? The Phantom?"

Uno's frown deepened. "Raoul I—"

"He wears a half mask to cover his deformity and considers himself owner of the Opera Populaire," Raoul finished. "Tell me that it's _him_."

Uno took her hands off his arms but wasn't quite able to back away from him as he kept his hands on her waist. She glanced around in deep thought then back up to see his eyes bearing upon her very soul.

"Raoul… please let me go." She whispered. "And I don't know what you're talking about. The man teaching me works on his own," she lied. "He heard me singing to myself on the streets and we talked. He offered to teach me opera if I allowed him to treat me to dinner."

Raoul frowned. "So Erik is not teaching you?

"No."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Well what does this man look like?" He urged. "Perhaps I know him—I can be of some assistance."

_God this guy is persistent!_

"Raoul I assure you," she pushed away from him finally. "I _don't_ need any help."

Raoul frowned at her. "But…"

"If you'd excuse me, please?" Uno turned and rushed away from him.

_God that was close_, she said to herself.

Turok pondered her actions. _Why did you lie to him?_

"I had no choice," she whispered. Uno made her way towards the drinks and stood before the champaign bowl.

_You lied to him… why?_

"He knew entirely what he shouldn't know," Uno replied, still with a whisper. She turned to watch the party carry on and darted her gaze around to watch for onlookers. "He knew things."

_He said Erik owned the theater, was considered the Phantom, the Opera Ghost—O.G._, Turok said wearily. _Perhaps Erik isn't a patron after all_.

Uno frowned. She needed to hear it from Charline but she had blown her friend off and the only chance she had to know.

God she was so low.

_Just stay away from him and you'll be fine._

Uno nodded and turned back to the champaign, pouring herself a glass.

Turok was right. If she stayed away from him then she still had a chance to find out on her own without confronting him and finding out if she were stupid. She could ask Christine and Raoul—but the way that man had rushed out like that had warned Uno away from that idea.

She'd just have to find out for herself whenever Charline and she could manage to make up.

-

Charline stopped rushing away and slammed her back into the corner of the hallway where the walls narrowed out. She was shielded by the darkness that people who passed by couldn't notice her. She crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a great sigh.

Uno was in for danger and yet Charline couldn't find it in her at that moment to even give a damn!

_She deserves it,_ she said mentally. _She totally deserves what treatment is coming her way._

Suddenly, the wall to her left slid open and somebody stepped out of the blackness behind it. Charline frowned and stood alert. The man stepped out with his back to her. He was dressed entirely in a bright, fiery red. The long cape on his shoulders was so long that it was not only hanging from his back but scooped up to hang from his left arm. With his right arm he shut the sliding door back into the wall and glanced around the hallway, never noticing her.

Charline's eyes grew wide when she saw the white skeleton mask covering his face.

She knew who it was.

She knew it was the Phantom.

The Opera Ghost.

Erik.

Uno's teacher.

She bit her bottom lip and watched as he dropped his cape back to the floor, adjusted the collar of his shirt, and began strolling down the hallway in the direction of the party. When he disappeared out of sight Charline came out of the corner and stared down after him.

"Oh my God," she said breathlessly. "Uno… you're in for real danger."

-

Uno was sipping at her champaign, minding the burning taste it gave her throat, and cringing as the warm liquid went down. A few people came up to greet her and with a curt nod Uno bid them a hello and farewell to let them go on their way. So far she's managed to avoid everyone else—either that, they avoided her for her wicked title and choice of clothing.

After all, the theme was magic and her she considered herself darkness.

The music stopped and several faces turned to glance at the staircase. Uno noticed the frightened faces on merely everyone and turned to see what the big deal was.

What she saw had shocked her, too.

Clad in a fiery red outfit and apparently tailored by the best with a long fiery red cape dragging from behind, stood Erik uptop the staircase. His face was encased in a white skeleton mask instead of his usual white half-mask, and he stared everyone down.

Uno felt herself warming up at the sight of him. Normally when she saw him he was dressed like everyone else, black suit only with a cloak.

Now he was dressed to stand out. His cape was long and followed behind him. And above all, he acted the way Uno normally felt: honorable and filled with pride.

When he landed he began talking but Uno's mind was too dead to really listen to what he had to say. Instead, she focused merely on his voice, his image, and the mood he had for the night.

Suddenly, the music returned and she shook herself to become aware that all was well again. Uno turned back to get more champaign, deciding she'd rather be drunk than to let herself get pulled to him even more than she already was.

She'd be damned if she fell in love with him.

"Madamoiselle Maxwell," came that rich, deep voice that awakened a mood from within her very heart and made her blood pulse within her veins. "You look," Uno turned around slowly to see Erik smiling at her, but his smile faultered when he noticed the formation of her corset and her breasts practically spilling out from it, "beautiful."

Uno managed a weak smile and timidly replied with, "And you steal the breath away from me."

_What the fuck?_ Turok spat.

Uno bit her tongue, amazed at how freely she spoke without thinking. Erik smirked and a light chuckle emerged from his throat.

"Likewise," he said. "You stole my breath last time, I suppose it is only fair that you would steal it now."

She swallowed hard and took a sip of her alcohol. If she could get drunk and act tired she'd have an excuse to flee for the night.

"Would you care to dance?"

Shit! Forget fleeing.

Uno placed her glass down and accepted his offer. She smiled and placed her gloved hand in his then allowed him to walk her out to the dancefloor. She noticed his cape was missing.

_Probably removed it,_ Turok explained. _They have servants to do that, to take coats._

As they danced, Erik kept his eyes glued to hers and Uno found herself unable to turn away. His vibrant green eyes found her violet orbs and pried into her mind. Staring into his Jade Green eyes she soon found herself lost within them and she began wishing she didn't have to.

But she did and it wasn't easy.

"So are you prepared for the gala?"

Uno nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment and kept her gaze adverted.

He pulled her closer as the dance became a slow dance. An arm draped around her back and Uno had no choice but to put hers on his shoulders from behind. His voice deepened.

"You read my letter?"

Uno swallowed hard and pressed the side of her face on his chest. "Yes," she said softly.

"Are you going to follow the orders?"

"Erik—if I wanted to actually kill you, as I plan to if you try to kill me, I would have told Raoul he was right in his ponderings about my teacher." Erik frowned and pushed back to stare at his pupil. Uno gazed up at him. "He knew it was you and I assured him that it wasn't."

His eyes narrowed. "You are telling no one?"

"Not even Madam Giry," she added in.

"Why?"

"I don't like people knowing my life." Uno pressed her face against his chest and pushed him on to continue the dance. Erik abided and continued leading. "Besides… I had a fight with a friend just before I came down here."

"Ah yes, Charline." Erik murmured. "I figured she looked a bit disheveled when I saw her in the hallway, hiding in a corner, fuming. I don't believe she knew I noticed her, but I ignored her, thinking she would mean me no harm."

Uno smirked. "She doesn't. She's just worried for me, is all."

"Why?"

Uno frowned. Now was the chance she could question Erik about his true identity but she chose to push it away. The moment was too perfect, too romantic, and who knew when she would get another chance at it again?

"Did you tell the police about me?" She asked, changing the topic.

Erik frowned, sensing the topic change but ignoring it. "No," he admitted truthfully. "Although I have been tempted, I figured you wouldn't go against my orders."

She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. "You know… normally when I receive orders I kill whoever had given them to me."

"But…?"

"But I won't kill you," she breathed out on a sigh, "If you won't kill me."

Erik smirked and raised his head to chuckle softly. "Oh you are truly a remarkable woman, Uno."

Uno frowned but kept her head against his chest. "Erik?"

"I've never met a woman with the urge to shed blood and still go on living with her life as if nothing has ever happened," he whispered into her ear. His hot breath heated her skin and made her body tingle with sensations she has never felt before.

At least not since she and Ricky shared their first kiss in his firebird.

"And here you are, playing the game of royality as if you led two different lives."

_What little _he_ knows,_ Turok intercepted.

Uno's frown deepened at both comments. "I…"

"Hm?"

"Nothing." She closed her eyes and turned her head to the other side, letting her other cheek rest against his chest. "It's nothing."

Erik switched arms and held her closer to his body. "You're disturbed," he said softly. "I can feel it."

"I bet you can also sense it," she retorted.

Erik shrugged. "That I tend to ignore." Uno groaned softly and Erik lowered his face. "What is it?" He whispered.

"You think I live on without regretting what I've done."

"Don't you?"

"No." Uno opened her eyes and stared at the dances who twirled around them. Apparently the slow dance had ended sometime ago and the two of them were now just standing admist it all. "I regret every person I ever killed."

Erik frowned. "How many might that be?"

She closed her eyes and dug her face into his chest. "Too many to count. Let's just say I probably made Hell over flow by now."

Erik pushed her back and lifted her hanging head with his fingers. "Uno," he called out softly. She raised her head and glanced up at him. Erik pouted upon seeing the pitiful expression she currently wore. "You are still an angel."

"I'm the Goddess of Death, Erik," she spat coldly. "That's my costume tonight—_not_ the Black Widow, whom Madam Giry is going around calling me."

Erik nodded. "And I am the Red Death—the co-counterpart to your cover-alias, the Black Death."

Uno stared up at him in silence. At the stunned gaze Erik laughed and wrapped his arms around her body once again.

"Oh you really are a masterpiece all by yourself, Uno."

"I'm so confused right now." Erik chuckled. "I have absolutely no idea what's going on anymore."

"Perhaps this may help?" He grabbed her hand and pushed her away from him fiercely, instantly bringing her skirts to a twirl. Uno froze and stared at his smug look then heard the current music being played. With a sudden expression of determination playing on her face, she grinned at him.

"Ready?"

"I was born ready," she replied.

Erik pulled her back in and slammed her back into his stomach. The fellow dancers around them had stopped to notice the two of them holding each other, arms locked together. The center of the stage moved back to give them room, knowing without being told that the owner had declared this song his own.

Uno angeled her head downward as Erik's lips grazed her neck, his warm breathe hot on her skin.

"Get ready," he told her darkly.

Uno moaned. "Emmm… anytime, Baby."

Erik smirked then within the next instant, flung his arm outward and with it went Uno in a fast twirl. The song was wild and fast, the tempo wickidly rapid and raging. The onlookers stared in fascination as Erik moved about the stage while Uno twirled away from him. Everytime Erik moved to one spot Uno would twirl away from him, the game of 'hard to get' fast on their minds.

She could faintly hear comments being made about the Red Death and the Black Death from the managers, about the owner and the best performer of the theater dancing together, and even a comment from Christine that had made her wonder.

"Are they in love?"

Uno frowned at that comment but didn't let it show. She wouldn't consider herself in love.

Would she?

Near the end of the song her back was to his chest, his arms wrapped around her abdomen while her arms wrapped around his back shoulders and upper torso. The beat was enticing, making their hips move together in time in an erotic fashion. Uno kept her eyes closed as Erik's breath was hot on her skin. His eyes closed as his lips grazed her neck and his arms slid up her waist towards her chest, just below her breasts; his other hand moved down towards her hip. Uno kept one hand played on the back of his shoulderblades while another trailed down the length of his body to rest on the back of his thighs. Together, the swayed their bodies in motion to the song.

Suddenly, he spun her out again, only this time in haste. Her skirts twirled in a frenzy of black and deep red. She kept her toes on point as Erik helped to propel her on. Then suddenly, he pulled her back in, their bodies facing one another, eyes staring into each others. One of her legs was entwined in his while one of his was entwined between hers. Together, their bodies still glued to each other and their arms still on each other, his on her lower back while the other hung and hers on his chest while the other hung, they began to sway to a much similar beat the same way as before.

A fire raged between them at that very moment. It roared to life so wildly that Uno felt it within her and _knew_ that he felt it too. His mouth was opened as he breathed out of it. Uno was panting, her eyes wickedly seductive all of a sudden. The audience around them had disappeared some time ago and all that remained were each other, lost in a sea of passion and lust.

Right as the final note played out Erik dipped her backwards, her chest exposed for all to see if they desired, her leg that was entwined between his angeled up to wrap around his thigh furtherest away from her. He lowered his head as well, as if trying to stare down into her corset, but his eyes never left hers. She could have stared at the onlookers upside down if she wanted but her eyes never left his.

The two of them had completed the dance and still held each other in their arms. Now their eyes have torn apart and they were staring at each others lips, wishing they could close the gap between the two and touch.

"I…" Uno paused to try and catch her breath.

"That was beautiful," Erik said breathlessly.

Uno nodded in agreement. "Quite," she panted out. "I…" Uno couldn't even think straight.

"Exquisite," he whispered, an inch between them suddeny closing.

Uno nodded, feeling the remaining two inches close on their own. She was thankful they were, too; it was still to far from his face.

"Lovely," she whispered.

"Yes," Erik whispered. "You are."

Their eyes shut and Erik kissed her with all the passion in the world, yet kept it tender as to not bruise her lips. Their tongues mingled together between each others lips. Uno groaned as she felt her insides heating up. Erik felt his blood beginning to boil

Suddenly the kiss ended and Uno wished it hadn't. She opened her eyes slowly; she was glad she was holding onto Erik's arms as her vision came back to her in a hazy form. Erik stared down at her, feeling much the same.

"Meet me on the roof," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I would like to give you something."

Uno nodded, her mouth still gaping open. When Erik pulled away she stared after him and watched him leave. It wasn't until he had disappeared in the crowd that she remembered there were people watching. Stealing a weak glance around at a few familiar faces, Uno found herself quite embarrassed. Raoul was staring at her in disgust. Christine in fear. Meg in shock.

She swallowed hard and keeping to herself, Uno turned around and headed straight for the staircase. Without looking back, she left the party and ignored the whispers she heard about the two of them.

It wasn't until she was gone that everyone had come out of their daze and began gossiping.

_You do know you will now become the target of mass attention?_

Uno rushed down the hallway, desperate to get to the door that opens to the world below.

"Then so be it."

When Uno came around the corner she found Charline standing in her way. She skidded to a halt and frowned.

"Charline?"

"It's now and no more, Uno," Charline snapped. "I _have_ to tell you this. I can't wait anymore."

Uno swallowed and nodded. She wanted to get to the rooftop and find out what it was that Erik had planned to give her, but she wasn't about to go pushing her friends away again.

Not when she was finally able to keep one.

"Alright." She turned and headed for her room, Charline following behind. When the two of them were alone Charline locked the door and turned to her.

"Erik is the Phantom of the Opera, Uno."

Uno frowned. "What?"

"He's the Opera Ghost—the man who _owns_ this theather."

Uno frowned and turned away. _So… the rumours _were_ true, after all. And if I questioned him about it all none of what just happened _would_ have happened._

"Erik is the one responsible for the accident years ago, the guy who kidnapped Christine and tried to get her to marry him. He tried to kill Raoul to make it happen."

Uno stared up at her friend in silence. "How do you know all this?"

"Meg told me," Charline replied. "She knows him pretty well—but not as well as her mother, though."

Uno glanced away. "Oh."

Charline continued on. "He owns the police station and several other stores around town."

"Great," Uno fumed. "No wonder the police didn't pay any attention to me."

Charline nodded. "He owns them, Uno. He owns all of us."

"I'm owned by no body," Uno growled up at her friend. "_Especially_ _him_!"

"So you say," Charline countered. "But he can still fire you, don't forget."

Uno heaved a great sigh. "Yeah—trust me, I haven't forgotten that."

"But he's deformed beneath that mask—so deformed he hates the world for it." Uno blew that off and Charline continued on. "He's been hiding the truth from you, as well. Using you and waiting to learn everything about you so he can use it against you."

Uno glanced at at her in weary. "How do you know? Did you ask him?"

"Meg knows."

"Meg?"

"She knows him just as well as her mother, remember? Just not that much but close enough."

Uno glanced away in thought again. "Hm…"

"Uno… he's dangerous." Uno closed her eyes and felt her self-esteem drop into the pit of her stomach. "He's _using_ you."

At that, Uno's temper flared. "Great," she retorted. "I'm being preyed upon."

"Uno?"

Uno stood up and turned to her friend. "Go enjoy your party, Charline. I have a meeting on the roof to handle."

-

The moment the cold night air hit her skin the temperature surrounding her jumped dramatically into the hundreds. Her hot blood boiled, sending her into fury. Rage took over her thoughts and poured into her actions. Erik turned at the sound of the door to the roof opening and closing and saw Uno rush towards him.

But he didn't see her snarl.

Nor did he see the fist that collided with his face only seconds after.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, playing my mind like that?" Uno roared out. Erik got to his feet from his stumble and rounded on her.

"I order you to back down," Erik bellowed. "Do not make me any angrier than you just made me!"

"You have no fucking right, _Phantom_!" Erik paused.

Who told her?

"You _could_ you play me like that? Do you have any idea how crude that is, to use me in such a way? You lied to me—hid the truth from me—and used me up!"

Erik smirked all of a sudden and crossed his arms over each other. "I _am_ rather amazed it took you this long to figure out."

Uno paused and stared up at him in pure shock.

"You…. Horrible… Fuck!" She struck him again only Erikw as prepared. He gasped her wrist and squeezed it tightly. Twisting it around he made Uno's back turn towards him so his arm could wrap around her waist and hold her other arm down.

"Let me go," she seethed out.

"Not until you admit," he said darkly, his hot breath against her cold ear.

"Admit what?"

"_Everything_!"

"What's everything?" She clenched her eyes and strained to break away.

"Everything about your past," Erik explained, his dark voice drowning her very senses. His hot breath fanning her skin. "Everything about your present. Every _thing_!"

"You don't deserve to know _anything_!" Uno shoved him backwards and spun around.

Erik grasped the statue to keep from falling off the roof. Uno noticed he strained to hold himself steady but didn't notice him with enough time to leap and tackle her to the ground. Uno whimpered and fought him but Erik was stronger and held her down. He secured her wrists above her head and stared down at her, his eyes bearing into hers.

"I will kill you if you rape me," she said coldly.

Erik frowned. "You truly think I mean to cause you harm?"

"Didn't you do that to Christine?" Erik looked taken aback. "Didn't you do that to Raoul and Christine's mind?"

"I regret every waking moment about what I did to her entire life," he admitted sorely. "But that _boy_ should have died either way."

Uno found she had to agree with him. With a smirk, she chuckled and said, "Amazingly enough, I have to agree. Raoul's a pussy cat who can't fight even if his life depended on it."

Erik frowned. "And I've seen it since I caused it to nearly happen… he couldn't fight." His grasp on her wrists loosened. "May I give you your New Years gift now?"

Uno heaved a sigh. "Fine—but make it fast. I still want to kick your ass."

Erik nodded. He lowered his head and claimed her lips, sending her back into the realm of oblivion. Uno closed her eyes and succumbed to his kiss, allowing herself to become lost in the sea of lust that which was him. Erik closed his eyes as well and deepended the kiss. He released her wrists and felt her arms wrap securely around his back. His own hands snaked beneath her body and held her close to him.

When the kiss finally broke, minutes later, both felt spent and stared into each other's eyes. Both were panting heavily, the snow around them melted and turned to water from the heat radiating off their bodies.

Uno broke the silence first.

"Was that your kiss?"

"Yes," Erik breathed out. "Happy New Years."

Uno tuned her ears in and heard the shouts from the dancers below. She heard the fireworks in the sky and when she saw them, when both of them gazed up to watch the colorful explosions, she felt they were the sparks that egnited between them.

Erik turned and glanced down to stare at the woman in his arms. She stared back at him and with fascination, he witnessed her skin changing colors depending on the explosion of the fireworks, and each time the color changed he still saw the same angelic creature lying beneath his body, held in his embrace, holding him in hers.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "Uno."

She stared up at him in return. Slowly, she raised her hands to his face and touched his mask. Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Brows furrowing, Uno slowly removed the mask away from his face but when the mask left his skin, his hair fell lose. She touched the wig and removed that as well.

What lay above her was the most amazing thing she's ever seen. In all her life she's seen soldiers getting ambushed, exploded by missiles, torn to pieces by bullets and shrapnel, and even torn apart by rabid animals. In all her life she had seen people with the most perfect bodies and most horrendous personalities, a few of which she had fallen in love with.

When she fell in love with Ricky he looked like an angel but his personality was tyranic. When she fell in love with Justin he proved to be an angel but his personality was too persistent.

But Erik… Erik was a God and his talents, abilities, and even his personality could back it up.

Erik wasn't perfect like everyone else. He wasn't model material like the people she once went to school with. He wasn't the picture of an angel that little girls are taught in Catholic school. He wasn't even easy on normal eyes.

But on her bloodsoaked eyes, eyes that were used to death and destruction, bodies torn into shreds, and faces that were so perfect it was as if magazines bred humans, Erik was truly perfect.

She smiled. Erik's eyes were closed and it was as if he were afraid to face her with his mask and wig removed. Uno was warned about his deformity but it wouldn't matter.

She still found him elegant in his own way.

"Erik," she whispered, hoping he could hear her voice over the sounds of the explosions above them.

When Erik opened his eyes to look down at her she found he was fighting the urge to scream and cover his head back up. His determination was powerful and his urge to cower strong; but now, and she saw the change happen as well, he stared at her with seriousness, prepared to retaliate should she harm him at all.

"You're perfect." Erik frowned and when he opened his mouth to speak Uno shushed him with a kiss. After a brief moment, she pulled back to gaze up at him with a smile. Erik, panting and now out of breath, gazed down at the face of the most amazing woman he's ever laid eyes upon.

Lower lip trembling, Erik whispered the one thing he told himself he'd never say again, "I love you."

* * *

Don't forget to check out the store where you can get your very own, Uno-based things! Soon to come: stuff with Uno's pictures on it!  
**www . cafepress . com/tsrose**  
_Just remove the spaces and you're good to go!_


	31. Recuperating

**Attention everyone: if you go to my homepage then click the store link on the left-hand side you will see a necklace that is for sale. Enjoy!**

**I'm going through rough times... yet again. I just broke up with my boyfriend--yes, the new one. I left my old boyfriend slash fiance for this guy and I just left this guy cuz it took me 6 months to realize he was simply looking for a hole to fuck. God and he was so perfect! (sighs) Too bad it was just lust with him. Now I'm going to date around, claim celibacy (yes, you adultfanfiction fans heard me right--no sex!), and wait for Mr Right to enter my life.**

**Enjoy the fic. Mr Right has already entered Uno's life but she doesn't know which it is just yet. Ricky... Justin... or Erik--you decide.**

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-One -

The three soft words that left Erik's trembling lips caused a lightheaded feeling to fill Uno's mind. The air surrounding them had dropped severely and the blood running through her veins froze immediately. Her heart hammered within her chest and her lips, as well, began trembling.

He loved her.

Erik had fallen in love with his sworn enemy, the same very girl who had come close to killing him as he to her. The same very woman he sworn to prey upon; he loved her. The Red Death had fallen in love with the Black Death.

_He loves a demon._

Uno closed her eyes and exhaled the breath she hadn't known she was holding. She laid her head back on the rooftop and weighed her options. She knew, above her, Erik waited for her response, whether she accepted his proposal or denied him any further enjoyment. She knew he would die if she chose the latter.

_You can kill him,_ Turok reminded her. _Tear apart his heart and make him bleed the way you always bled._

Uno opened her eyes to see him still staring down at her with expectance, eyes glittering with crystals as if he could shed tears any minute. Watching him stare at her with the sad expression had her heart screaming, had her heart racing faster than ever. She knew what he wanted her to say.

And by God she realized, just then, that she felt the same way deep down inside.

_He loves a demon._

Uno opened her lips, trepidation settling over, and choked out on nothing. She tried to speak but her voice wouldn't rise above a whisper, if even that. Closing her lips, Uno composed herself and tried again. Still, no words came.

_He loves a demon._

"Erik I—" She finally managed to say. A squeak followed and again, nothing happened.

A tear now fell from his drooped eye. Uno watched and felt her own heart sink. Having to watch the most perfect being alive get crushed by the one he loved was painstaking.

She knew perfectly well what he was feeling.

"I—"

_He loves a demon._

"Erik—"

_He loves a demon._

Uno closed her eyes and laid her head back once again, tears now springing to her eyes and falling down her cheeks.

Erik hung his head and heaved a loud sigh. He should have known this would happen.

"Damn it, Turok!" Uno spat. Erik glanced down at her with confusion.

_He loves a demon._

Uno whimpered and turned her head to the side, her eyes still closed and the tears still cascading down her cheek. And still, those same words repeated in her brain, drilled into her skull, engraved as a memory.

_He loves a demon._

"I'm not a demon!" She whined, both hands now covering her face.

Erik frowned down at her and pushed back a little, clearly taken aback from her sudden change of attitude. Glancing around briefly to take in the surroundings, he realized they were still alone and she was talking aloud.

"Uno?" He asked wearily.

"I'm not a demon," she whispered.

_He loves a demon,_ Turok told her. _You're a demon who murdered innocent children, women, soldiers, men, animals, bystanders, and even your own friends._

"No I'm not," she cried into her hands. "I'm not that same person anymore."

"Uno?" Erik placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to sit her upright. "Uno—what… who…?"

She sniffled. "I'm sorry, Erik." Uno cried, her hands muffling out her words. "I'm so sorry."

Erik hung his head. He released her shoulders and sat back on his haunches. By now the fireworks have ceased exploding above them and the atmosphere was quiet once again. He watched her intensely and waited for her to explain herself, but Erik felt he already knew why.

"I understand," he said dryly. Uno frowned and pulled her hands away from her tear-drenched face to gaze up at him, her eyes twinkling with fresh tears still within them.

"What?"

"You do not have to explain. Why would anybody want to feel affected by this," he closed his eyes and turned away, sure to put his deformity well into her view.

Uno frowned and pushed up to a sitting position. "Erik you don't understand." Erik sighed. "There is nothing wrong with you in my eyes but you don't understand."

He turned to her and gave her the most expressionless face she had ever seen in all her life.

And after living with Heero, she's seen expressionless.

"I like you so much," she explained. "I really do. But…" Uno paused to release a whimper. "You don't understand where I come from and why I'm not able to love you back."

A muscle tightened in his jaw. "I see."

"No—you don't," she stumbled out quickly. "I've fallen in love with somebody before, a while ago, and I wasn't able to fall in love with him either—Erik you're not alone." He turned away and sighed loudly. "Erik—everyone I _ever_ held dear to died because of me."

Frowning, he faced her and found sincerity and concern in her eyes. "Charline almost died because of me," Uno reminded him then suddenly smirked, as if a thought struck her memory. "If you hadn't made me the potion—the cure—she _would_ have. I've had another friend die because the assassin was aiming for me and he killed her instead. I had a lover in the past that had to kill himself because he couldn't kill me."

Erik's face twisted. "What?"

_Baka Maxwell! You let out too much information!_

Uno tore her gaze to the side and released a heavy breath. With a shaky voice but determination in her mind, she calmed her nerves and swallowed hard. There was a serious tone to her voice.

"I'm sorry, Erik. I can't say it back—I'm literally unable to."

_Oh great, blame me for it._

Uno got to her feet and looked down at him. Just moments ago Erik saw pain etched on her face and now he saw the same honorable warrior-look in place of it; it was the same face he first saw her wear when she arrived at the theater many months back.

"There's too much to tell you about myself and after you learn it—like everyone else, you'll either hate me or fear me." He frowned. Lowering her voice to a whisper, Uno stared him in the eyes and muttered, "Aishiteru," before fleeing from the rooftop.

-

Uno stepped onto the stage the following afternoon and glanced briefly at the dancers twirling around her. Her footsteps light and careful, she made her way across the floor towards the other side where Meg and Charline were resting. Meg glanced at Uno and frowned. When Charline turned she smiled.

"Hello," Charline smiled. Uno remained quiet and sent her a weak smirk in return. She turned to Meg and saw the look.

"What?"

"You danced with him!" Meg spat out in a whisper.

Charline gasped and turned to Uno. "You _didn't_?"

Uno nodded. "We danced quite well, actually."

"You didn't just _dance_, Uno," Meg reminded her. "You two _kissed_!"

Charline gasped again. "Uno!"

Uno nodded in admittance. "We did kiss and when I went to the rooftop—after a quarrel, that is—we kissed again." Uno stared at Meg. "I kissed him after I removed his wig and mask."

Meg gaped. "You're kidding me?" Uno shook her head. "Why?"

"Because he's beautiful and he's a genius," Uno explained. "He's a God and I'm not about to push a God down—especially one as talented and taken as him."

Charline gazed between both girls in confusion then gave up and sighed heavily. "I give. You two are confusing to me."

Meg crossed her arms. "Well then I suppose, if you and Erik have a relationship going, that I should warn you."

Uno frowned. "About what?"

"Raoul's filing for the arrest of Erik," she told her. "He insists that Erik has you under a wicked spell, as he once held Christine."

Uno's anger flared. "That's bizarre! Raoul's got no right—Erik isn't doing anything to me."

"Do you love him back?" Charline asked suddenly. Both girls went silent and turned to face her. "Do you?"

"How did you know he loved me?"

Charline grinned, a twinkle of joy in her eyes. "You just confirmed it, for one thing."

Uno opened her mouth to speak but shut it immediately. She grunted. "You've been around me for far too long, Charline."

Meg smiled. "Charline—you're my new best friend."

Both girls giggled and Uno hung her head.

"Alright—no more pushing me out!"

"So do you love him back?" Charline smiled brightly. Meg seemed interested as well.

Uno heaved a sigh. "I… can't."

Both girls stared at her in shock.

"Why?"

"Uno—Erik can't take another rejection."

Uno nodded. "I know," she said softly.

"But why then?" Meg urged. "You know you love him." Uno nodded but remained silent. "Then…?"

She swallowed hard then took a deep breath. "We have similar lives but my history is… horrible."

"So? So is his."

Uno shook her head softly and gave her blonde friend a cold stare. "You have no idea."

"Alright ladies," Madam Giry called out. Uno turned and saw the woman rounding the dancers up. "We have rehearsal to finish."

Uno bowed her head to both her friends then scampered off stage. She could vaguely feel the older woman's gaze on her back. Ignoring all other faces that turned her way, she decided to flee to the safety of her room.

-

It was about midnight when Uno turned away from her journal. The clocked chimed on and Uno found that Charline had most likely already gone to bed, leaving her be.

_So be it_, she figured. _Just as well._

Uno sighed and stood to stretch. Recording her thoughts down was one thing; recording her actions down was another. She spent a long time writing down how Erik had made her feel and how she wasn't able to return his feelings.

"Time for rehearsals," she muttered.

Grabbing her black cloak Uno draped it around her shoulders and left the room. There was snow on top of the roof, falling down all around her, and laying on her velvet cape like dandruff from her hair. The snow was fresh on the ground and there were no other footsteps but hers to leave as tracks.

Erik wasn't out there waiting for her.

Not yet, at least.

She sighed softly and stepped up to the edge. She didn't want to sing anymore. She didn't want to be reminded of the past. She wanted to live on with a normal life and forget everything that's ever happened to her. So far she's done wonders with it, gone quite a distance.

She sighed again.

But since Erik heard her voice he's demanded that she sing. He's claimed her to become the new found diva. He's preyed upon her to become the reason the theater still stands, to serve a purpose as a singer, a voice from the shadows.

The shadows she wanted to remain hidden within.

"Damn it all to Hell," she muttered. "Just when I was starting to make something of myself, into a no body, I get heard and then I'm turned, once again, into a somebody." She glanced down at the streets below and heaved another sigh. "And no body even cares about me. They don't give two shits if I sing excellent then suddenly drop dead the next moment. Just so long as my voice can carry them to a higher level."

_Welcome to stardom._

Uno snorted. "_Fuck_ stardom—I want out." She gazed out at the horizon. "Everyone loves me for my voice but that's not who I am, damn it. They think I'm some regal Japanese Empress, viewing the world and waiting to return to my throne. Some girl who's somehow escaped Indians from America and Texas—Jesus I'm not _anything_ like that! I'm not even from this fucking planet!"

_Then jump and kill yourself._

Uno frowned. "I won't die, Turok."

_No but it'll be funny again._ Uno groaned. _Go on… just for fun._

"You're not helping." There was laughter in the back of her mind. Uno sighed aloud once more then frowned down at the street below her.

"_Perfect_—by _nature_, icons of self indulgence—_just_ what we _all_ need," she paused and glared out at the horizon, "More lies about a world that—_never_ was and _never_ will be!"

Uno stepped back from the ledge and spun around to put the world behind her. She stared up at the theater. "Have you no shame? Don't you see me?" She spun back around to stare out at the sleeping world. "You know you've got _everybody _fooled!"

_That's right Uno. Now you realize what happens when you get famous—you get forgotten._

Uno growled. "_Look_—here she comes now—_bow_ down and stare in wonder! '_Oh_—how we _love_ you! No flaw's when you're pretending!'" She closed her eyes. "But—_now_ I know she _never_ was and _never_ will be! You don't know how you've betrayed me!" Opening her eyes Uno glared out at the view before her and screamed even more. "And somehow you've got everybody fooled…"

_You see what happens when people only love you for your voice? They want _only_ your voice and could care less about _you_, Uno._

Uno growled but kept her tone to a whisper. "Without the mask—where will you hide? Can't find yourself—lost in your lie." She opened her eyes. "I know the truth now—I _know_ who you are—_and I don't love you anymore!_ It _never_ was and _never_ will be—you don't know how you've betrayed me! And somehow you've got everybody fooled."

Uno spun around and screamed. "It _never was _and _never will be_—you're not real and _you_ can't save me! Somehow now you're _everybody's_ fool!"

She didn't realize her voice was scratchy until the note died. Normally when she sang she was careful of her voice—but with her anger rising and Turok only adding to it, she wound up screaming instead.

_Brilliant,_ he mused. _Keep this up and you _won't_ sing anymore._

"Fuck you Turok," she spat. "You're making me do this on purpose."

_Well _you_ want to stop singing and become a no body, don't you?_

"Hn." She paused for a moment before gazing up at the stars. "It's late and he still hasn't shown."

_Probably gave up on you._

"Oh well." Uno turned and headed towards the door. "His loss."


	32. Aggressive Abilities

**I hope y'all are happy now! Geeze... I got killers for readers. XP**

**Well I'm going through rough times--how about y'all? My cats on her death bed and could die at any given second. My relationship is stumbling around but I think that's officially dead now, too. Some of my friends have such horrible out looks of me...**

**And this chapter has lots of humor in it. There's a lot of Quatre and Heero action going on at the start (not really Quatre and Heero but it's just like them) and there's lots of Turok humor later on. You even get to see Morris in action and learn about The Blassimeer Family (snap snap).**

**The songs are titled: Everybody's Fool (previous chapter), Imaginary, and Bring me to Life and are all sung by Evanescence.**

_**Remember to review if you want a quicker update! It takes me at least 4 reviews to post!**_

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Two -

_After Colony 210  
__Calendar years: 4515_

"Justin—please just _listen_ to me!" Chris stood from his office chair and gripped the phone. "_Don't_ kill him!"

"I don't care," came Justin's response. "He's from Synodd and there's no telling who's still left alive from that place. It may be why we haven't seen Uno return home yet."

"Uno's dead, Justin!" Chris grit his teeth together and growled. "Why can't you admit that?"

There was silence for a brief moment.

"Justin?"

"He needs to die." Justin's voice was flat and emotionless. "He's still our enemy."

"Justin—you're sounding like Uno." Chris frowned suddenly upon hearing something in the background. "D-do you have him tied up?"

"No."

"Justin don't lie to me!"

"… I'm not."

"Justin!"

"He's not tied up Chris," Justin paused again. "He's just… a little out of it, I'd say."

Chris paused. "You knocked him out?"

"I wouldn't call it that. More like broke his jaw."

"Justin!"

"He shouldn't have attacked me."

Chris froze. "He _attacked_ you?"

"Mmhm."

"Well… transfer this call onto the screen."

Chris began tapping in numbers to the pad besides the cradle of the phone. In no time light spilt in from the center of the ceiling and down to the floorboards of the office. Justin stood in front of a desk, replacing the phone onto the cradle just as Chris turned to do. Justin was wearing blue jeans but the legs were all torn up. His shoes were stained in dirt. His shirt was torn and while Chris inspected his form he began removing it. His hair was matted to his head and his face had mud plastered on it.

"Christ Justin—you look like shit," Chris spat. "What happened?"

"I told you." Just tossed the shirt aside and turned to his friend. "I got jumped." He turned to face the writhering body behind him and for the first time Chris noticed the man's injured form.

"Justin!" Justin turned to frown at him. "You practically killed him already!"

"No I didn't." Chris frowned. "He's not dead."

"He's damn well near it," Chris mused.

Justin simply brushed it off with a shrug of his shoulders. "Actually I was thinking of using the Torture Chamber for him."

"Absolutely not! I will _not_ allow it." Justin smirked. "Stop thinking Justin—your thoughts recently have been scaring us all."

"Recently?"

"You were never like this." Justin started laughing with a dark chuckle. "Justin?"

"Chris you're still so innocent." Chris frowned. Justin shook his head and glanced down at the Zues tattoo on his inner right wrist. "Don't forget my old street gang. I wasn't always this… easy-going."

"What? You were once like Uno?"

"To a point, yes." He faced Chris. "I just wasn't so cold hearted."

"You're acting cold hearted now!"

Justin paused before he let out a chuckle. "Well then I guess I still am like Uno."

Chris hung his head and groaned. "You're a handful."

"I have this man's ID Disc. Connect the file transfer so I can send it over."

"Alright." Chris turned back to the pad besides the phone and started typing in commands. "I'm amazed at how fast technology's been upgrading since we ended the war. Mandy's been able to get Vincent into enhancing the holographic screens to allow a new style of transfer."

"What next? We already got the ability to transfer material across commands with the press of a button." Justin glanced down when a small black portal opened up in front of him; it spun around like a black hole. "I'm sending it over."

"Alright." Chris watched Justin place a tiny black disc into the portal and waited for it to disappear in his portal. In no time the black disc materialized before him and Chris scooped it up. "A teleporter."

"No surprise there," Justin mused. "That bastard's still as lazy as he was during the wars."

Chris sighed. "Justin, he's searching for ways to better help humanity." Justin scratched at an itch on his arm then turned away briefly. "He's not lazy."

Justin snorted. "What's the teleportation for then?"

"So shuttles can be shut down," Chris explained. "The space shuttle programs have been outdated for centuries. It's time we move more towards teleportation. Traveling across planets was one thing but now that Mandy has developed colonies on planets in near-by galaxies the shuttles aren't able to support transportation as well as they used to. Exiting the galaxy is one thing but reentering another is burning the outside shields."

Justin knelt down by the figure and brushed the hair away from the man's face. "What about the Starship Program? How's that going?"

"Well," Chris heaved a sigh, "better than we intended but we're still months behind. We need to find a pilot to run the first test but we can't seem to get one. I was wondering if you'd like to do it, considering how intelligent you are with machines and electronics—but I have a feeling you'd crash on purpose."

Justin chuckled beneat his breath. "Nah—just hyperdrive backwards and hope to pick up Uno."

"Hyperdrive doesn't go backwards."

"Yes it can—you just gotta' reverse the thrusters and upgrade the boosters. It's risky and can blow up if you don't pump the right amount of oxygen into the tanks but so long as you run the fuel efficiently you'll be fine." He turned to see Chris giving him a blank stare. "What?"

"Why are you unemployed when you can help us regulate our technologies quicker?"

"Because I'm lazy," he retorted.

Chris laughed loudly. "You're as lazy as a rat in a dungeon of snakes."

"Is that supposed to make sense?"

"Justin you're never lazy," Chris muttered. "But with your idea of backwards hyperdrive we can achieve greater things."

"Like turning back time to make the world better—nice Chris. The Butterfly Effect all over again. Make Uno's life better so she'll be alive today—like that'll work."

"You'll get to see her alive and by your side," Chris told him with a grin.

"Yeah and I'll also get to see her dad, Duo, sticking guns in my face." Chris frowned. "Forget it Chris—I'm not repeating myself. Backwards hyperdrive is just as dangerous as hyperdrive itself. You can destroy time by messing around with it." He looked back down at the figure below him. "Just like regular hyperdrive and how you can wind up anywhere in the Universe."

"Well I tried." Chris turned away from the holograph and returned to his desk. He sat back down and watched Justin sprawl the guy out on the ground.

"Which galaxy did Mandy develop colonies on?"

"The Spiral one, Monica."

"What?" He turned to see the blonde leaning back in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk before him. "Monica? Why not Lewinsky? It's closer."

"Closer… yes," Chris heaved a sigh. "But the air is toxic and too dangerous for life. Monica is safer but the only problem they're currently having is sustaining plant growth on there. When we developed life on Saturn, the only thing we found hard was reaching the planet, considering the asteroid field surrounding it."

"I see. So now because the space shuttle program is about four to five hundred years outdated you think teleportation will be better?" Justin snorted. "You dream too much."

"As do you," Chris countered. "You're still looking for Uno."

Justin glanced at the ground. "I gotta go—he's waking back up."

Chris heaved a sigh. "I wish you wouldn't but there's no point in trying."

Justin nodded. "Bye."

"Bye." The holograph died. "Fucking idiot."

-

_Calendar years: 1874_

"I want out!" Uno ranted while storming back and forth in her room. "I want _out_ of singing opera and back to dancing!"

_I want out of my cryogenic sleep and into my body but you don't see me complaining_, Turok fought. _Do you?_

Uno paused. "What?"

_I want out of your mind but you don't see me whining about it like you, do you?_

She snorted. "You're too busy having a blast from torturing me and trying to get me to jump over the ledge again."

_Actually you _ran_ over, last time_, he corrected her. _And since I can't stand your ranting about humanity and yet your dreams at becoming normal I'm having a blast enjoying myself at teasing you about it._

She frowned. "Is _that_ what you call putting me into all this drama?"

_That's life Uno_, Turok informed. _If you run from drama then you're running from life. You stood through it all and fought to survive. You're strong enough to withstand any blow. There are a lot of _normal_ humans out there who wouldn't and _couldn't_ simply because they've always ran from it all their lives._

She sighed deeply. "Life sucks."

_Tell me about it. I had to carry your sorry ass over the years and keep you alive—think it was easy controlling your brain?_

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

_Whimp. Can't stay awake and fight the sleep._

"Nope." She crawled back into the bed, aware that it was already nine in the morning. "And I could care less about what goes on around me while I sleep."

-

Charline tapped on Uno's door and received no answer. She scanned the hallway before testing the knob and finding it, as usual, unlocked. Entering the room Charline glanced around but found Uno tucked under the covers. She shut the door and smiled before tiptoeing over to the bed.

"Uno?" Uno groaned. "Get up." She groaned again and Charline made her voice sound panicked. "The theater's on fire! We have to get out!"

"Ughhn… let me burn then." Charline's shoulders shlumped forwards. "I won't die."

"What do you mean you won't die?" Charline reached out and grabbed her friend's shoulders. Shaking violently she forced Uno's eyes to open. "Wake up!"

"Damn it Charline!" Uno shoved her friend's hands away. "You're worse than an eight-point-o' on the Rictor Scale!"

"The what?"

"Never mind." Uno curled back up. "I'm going back to sleep."

"It's three in the afternoon!" Charline gasped. "And you're still in bed!"

"Mmhm. And I'll sleep until the Millennia turns."

"The world will end by that time," Charline retorted.

"What little you know."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"… Nothing."

"Uno?"

"Nothing Charline," Uno rushed out. "It means nothing."

"Uno," Charline paused to draw up a chair and take a seat. "I would like an audience."

Uno frowned and glanced over at her friend. "A what?"

"An audience."

"… Okay?"

"I believe you owe me the truth," she said seriously. "And the reason I'm acting like a royal pain is because you act like royalty and I have to be a pain to wonder who you really are."

Uno smirked. "Nice sense of humor. Too bad I'm too tired to be of any assistance." She closed her eyes.

"I'll pour water on your head," Charline warned.

"Then I'll slit your throat."

"I'll put insects in your bed."

"I'll make you eat them while they're alive."

"… I'll have Erik fire you." _That_ got Uno's attention! Uno sat up immediately and stared at her friend in pure fright. "Ah so there _is_ something you're afraid of, afterall."

"Erik and I had a fight the other night," she told her friend. "Which is why I believe he may actually fire me if given the chance."

"What happened?"

"He said he loved me but I couldn't say it back."

"Oh right," Charline waved her hand in the air. "That. The almighty Uno can't admit to weakness of the heart."

Uno groaned and collapsed back in bed. "You know me too well."

"Quite the contrary," Charline corrected. "I don't know you at all."

"Hm."

"I would like to."

"No."

"I don't believe you're Japanese or from America—even though you have the hardness of a true American."

"Then what do you think?"

Charline was silent for a moment. "I'm not too certain."

Uno closed her eyes. "Then you don't need to know."

Charline paused upon developing an idea. "Uno?"

"Hm?"

Charline smirked. Uno was groggily and ready to fall back asleep; she'd talk and not know what she's saying. "Um… question?"

"Hm?"

"Are you half asleep?"

"Mmhm."

Charline smirked. "And you're in love with Erik?"

"Mmhm."

Her smirk formed into a smile. "And you're not from Japan or America?"

"Mmhm."

Her smile twisted into a grin. "And you were born in the year…?"

Groggily, Uno replied with, "Forty-four ninety-six."

Charline's heart stopped beating for a brief moment and her head grew light. "B-by that you mean…?" She shook herself together. "What was going on when you were born?"

Uno groaned before replying. "The colonies sent four Gundams to take over Earth and form a union amongst the people so the Barton Foundation can take its lead." She curled up into a ball. "Now go away and let me sleep."

Charline's lower lip was quiver and she glanced down at the ground. "One last question…" Uno groaned. "Were the colonies you're referring to the original thirteen American colonies and they wanted to take over the world, using troops called 'Gundams'?"

Groaning first before reply, "No. Earth united. Space Colonies want the planet for themselves. Fight for it with machines made out of Gundanium. Operation Ground Zero." Charline's mouth dropped slowly and her eyes widened. "Now go away."

She swallowed hard but nodded her head. "Alright Uno. I'll let you sleep." Charline pushed the chair back beneath the desk and stole one last glance at her friend before leaving.

"But you owe me the truth later."

-

Erik heaved a sigh and turned away from his piano for a second to gather his thoughts and take a break. His fingers were sore from the constant abuse of banging them on the keys to play out his torment. The fingertips very close to blistering.

Uno wouldn't give him back his devotion but claimed he was perfect. Erik snorted. How like a woman to use a man.

He sneered his lair and growled.

"No woman would look upon me as a man but rather a devil no matter what they say." He stood up and strode over towards his gondola. "I suppose she should be treated like the rest of them." He scooped up his cape, swung it on, and then reached out for the gondola pole. "No use fighting it anymore. Uno made it quite clear that my face scared her away."

-

_I'm upset with you._

"What for?" Uno climbed up ontop of a statue and looked out at the view of Paris at night. "What did I do this time?"

_You told Charline._

"Told her what?"

_Everything to give her the right to demand the rest._

"When did I do that?"

_When you claimed to be sleeping—your brain wasn't processing correctly._

Uno frowned. "Why didn't you stop me?"

_Oh so now you_ want_ me to control you?_

"Damn it Turok!" Uno balled her fists. "You know how dangerous it is for people to learn about me!"

_Yes but you don't know how dangerous it is to be human,_ he countered. _Many humans can't fight from admitting the truth when they sleep._

Uno groaned. "God I'm so fucked now."

The door opened and closed suddenly. Uno bolted upright but with the speed she moved with her friction had not grabbed hold in time and she slipped on her cape. Arms sprawling out Uno slid off the statue…

And into the arms of Erik.

She stared up at him in surprise. Erik had replaced his mask and wig from the other night. He looked down at her with disbelief.

"How foolish I was to believe you were like me," he spat. "Here you are sliding off statues."

Uno rolled her eyes and put her feet down. "Please. I'm pretty sure there was a time _you_ almost fell off the rooftop."

"Not at all," he muttered. "I am careful."

Uno snorted. "_No_ body's perfect." His eyes narrowed. "So… are you up for a lesson?"

Brow quirked, Erik regarded her for a moment. "You're serious?"

"Yeah—even though I'd rather dance again I know there's no fighting you so…" her voice trailed off.

"So?"

Uno hung her head and heaved a sigh. "I give," she breathed out. "You win this one."

Erik smirked. "You just made my day."

"Hn."

"Well then I suppose we should begin." He turned away from her and over to the ledge. "Your warmup, please?"

Uno turned around to face him. "Can I just sing something to warm up instead of basic notes?"

Erik cocked a brow at her. "What do you have in mind?"

Uno smiled and locked her hands together behind her back. With a quick bat of her lashes she swayed around and opened her mouth. Erik frowned.

"Something random."

"Go on."

She smiled at him. "Swallow-it-up for-the-sound of my screaming—cannot cease for the fear… of silent night." Her soft tone was soothing. "Oh—how-I-long-for-the deep-sleep-dreaming… the goddess of imaginary light."

Erik smiled. "Beautiful."

She bowed her head and angeled her grin at him. Upon her next note she bellowed out with a rich voice. "In my fields of paper _flowers_ and candied clouds of multiply." Erik frowned; her ability to sing was remarkable. She had the talent to jump octaves better than he recalled Christine ever having.

"I lye inside myself for _hours_ and watch my purple sky fly over me."

"Uno," he began, "how did you…?"

Uno ignored him and carried on with her song. She stepped up to the ledge and put her back to him. Her voice dipped lower as she changed for a more mysterious tone.

"I linger in-the doorway… our alarm clock screaming—monsters calling—widening." She turned to grin at him. "Let me stay, where the wind will whisper to me… where the raindrops as their falling—tell their story." She jumped octaves once more. "If-you-need to leave the world you _live_ in… lay-your-head-down and stay awake." She put her back to him once again. "Though you may not remember _dreaming_—something waits for you to breathe again."

"Uno… how can you…?"

"In my fields of paper _flowers_ and candied clouds of multiply. I lye inside myself for _hours_ and watch my purple sky fly over me." The song ended and she bowed her head. "I've always liked that song."

"Did you make it?"

Uno nodded briefly. "When I was little… I was bored in our library and kinda' tired." She turned to smile at him. Erik stepped up to her, engrossed in her little story. "I used to sit in the tower and stare out at the forest."

"Tower?"

A distant sadness crept into Uno's eyes as she adverted her gaze slightly to the side. "The library was about a quarter of the house and there was a tower that stood up higher than everything else."

"It sounds like a wonderful home," Erik whispered.

"It was."

"Do you miss it?"

She lowered her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it."

"Why don't you go back?"

"I'm not welcomed there anymore."

"I can understand _that_." Erik turned away to glare out at the view.

"If I could return everything to normal I would go back." She sighed softly. "But… you can't turn back time to change the future—else you'd be lost in the timeline for good."

Erik shrugged his shoulders. "Man has always tried to create time machines but have never succeeded in such foolish ideas. Their toys are merely for play—nothing more."

"Hm… I hope you're right." She glanced out at the view as well. "I hope nobody ever tries to build a time machine, especially in the millenia's to come."

Erik snorted. "No such thing," he scoffed out. "And foolish to believe it, either." He turned to her confused expression. "Armageddon will arrive upon the turn of the millennia. It says so in the Bible."

Uno frowned. "You believe religion and Armageddon will happen?"

"I know it will."

She turned away. _I know for a fact that it won't._

"I see."

"You do not believe in such a thing?" She shook her head. "You are not a believer in Christ?"

Uno frowned up at him. "Religion never played a part in my life. Besides… for somebody who so clearly hates God why do you put faith into him?"

Erik's back straightened. "I know he is real but I do not believe in him for he does not believe in me."

She looked down again. "I wish I can say the same but I've seen proof that He doesn't exist."

Erik frowned at her. "How so?"

"Why would He allow for such turmoil to happen to an innocent child born through science?" She froze. "I mean… her mother's death." Uno shot him a frightfilled stare.

"I do believe science had nothing to do with your mother's death," he said questionably. "But what do you mean by such a statement?"

_You better come up with a lie, Uno._

"I… my mother died while giving birth to me and the men—the scientist—merely helped her die instead of helping her live."

He frowned. "This was in America?"

Uno smiled weakly. "Nobody's perfect, Erik," she mused. "And nowhere's safe."

He nodded as if understanding. "Very well. We can put away this topic for now. I would like to begin our lessons. We have already wasted enough time."

"Alright."

"Good." Erik pulled her away from the ledge. "Now from the beginning, if you will?"

Uno crawled back into bed only a few hours after her lessons ended and returned to sleep. Her dreams, unfortunately, were anything but pretty.

-----  
_After Colony 175  
__Calendar years: 4479_

"My poor baby brother," Violet said while batting her lashes in his directions. "Have you forgotten yourself? You are but a fly trapped in a spider's web. Do not forget that I can read your thoughts." Her voice was sweet and knowing, signifying her ability to manipulate minds through her telepathy.

Morris opened his mouth to argue but took one glance at his older sister's all-knowing gaze and closed it. He heaved a sigh and hung his head.

"How could you?"

"Same way you're capable of achieving anything thrown your way."

"But… you're…"

"I know you are wanting to call me a wretched creature but at the same time you are also hoping I would help you."

Morris smirked. "Help in what?" He brought his arms out to the sides. "Help me in taking over this base? Destroying my computer chip? How about help me get laid?"

Her expression wiped clean. "_That_ I do _not_ find amusing."

"You should if you can read my thoughts," Morris countered.

Violet sighed and glanced back down at her romance novel. "You are just as horrible as Turok."

Morris shrugged his shoulders. "What do you expect? We're brothers."

"Sadly you are _my_ brothers," she added in.

"Well…" Morris sat down in the seat opposite his sister and frowned.

"Yes Morris—the chairs are antique and classic," she said after reading his thoughts. "Quite comparison next to the book I am currently reading."

"You're not going to help me, are you?"

"You are needing help?" She lowered the book and smiled over at him. "Oh yes… I forgot. Where has my mind wandered off to? While you go around claiming to be perfect, albeit cocky about it, you rarely admit that you still need help."

"Damn it Violet!" Morris shot to his feet. "I need your help! Kayne is going to kill us all and literally _destroy_ this base!"

"Nonsense Morris," she corrected softly. "While it is true that Kayne has turned against us he does not plan to kill us—only his men. We, on the other hand, will be put to sleep in cryogenic sleep." Morris froze. "It is, after all, what his mind reads."

"You're kidding me," he muttered in disbelief. "Kayne's going to turn on us—for real?"

"Well some of us will be used for another purpose." She opened her book back up.

"Such as?"

"Turok was designed specifically for a computer program, little brother. He will be recreated into that computer program."

Morris frowned. "Computer program?"

"The Zero System," she explained. "Like him, it is nothing but battle strageties and a compilation of newer units. It will give the user the ability to decifer who his enemy is _but_ not enough to control their brain. It will, however, be just enough to make the man go insane."

"Does he have that in his brain now?"

"Turok? No," Violet smiled. "He's still the same ol' Turok we all know him as."

"Great," Morris mused. "While he's going to be redesigned he's busy playing tricks on everyone." He paused for a moment then opened his mouth to ask another question.

But Violet beat him to it. "No Trixie will not survive, either. She is too high of a risk and her pyrokensis ability is too dangerous to be left out in the open, unattended. You, however, are capable of escaping so you will be just fine."

"What about you?"

"I will survive. I have more than just telepathy as my ability, Morris. I can also control people's thoughts."

"And Tulip? What will happen to him?"

"I can't say. He will probably take shape of a soldier and escape—_or_ take the shape of Kayne himself and make a run for it."

"Damn shape shifter," he muttered in disgust. "He has it easy."

"Too bad neither of us can say the same about Emerald."

Morris shot her a terrified glance. "She's the baby of us all."

"And she lacks a shield. She can fly and she has a high strength level—but she can still be shot down." He heaved a deep breath and sat back down. "I am sorry Morris. You and I will be the only survivors."

"And Tulip," he added in.

"That is correct." Violet smiled at her brother. "I forgot that Tulip has the ability to shape shift but does not have a know weakness where as _we_ are powerful and can still be taken down. Even though he _is_ only a level three and his risk level says dangerous."

"He has a weakeness," Morris corrected her bitterly. "He's got a woman's name."

Violet laughed suddenly. "Tulip has forgotten his natural appearance, Morris. He may not be a man after all and forgot what he really was and looked like." Morris's face twisted. "He could have very well been a woman—his shape shifting _is_ that powerful, after all."

Morris nodded. "And you have radiowaves as a weakness."

"Would you expect my telepathy to fight it?" She asked. "Even though my risk level is dangerous my strength is _only_ level two. Unlike your extreme risk level opposing your weak level one status—your ability makes up for it."

"What would you consider Turok then?"

"The same. His ability is weak like yours _but_ his risk is extremely dangerous." She glanced across her bedroom. "I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to play a trick on Kayne the moment before Kayne feels it's time to capture him."

"He's foolish enough too," Morris retorted. "But Emerald is the baby of us all—she can't get hurt."

"I'm sorry Morris," Violet turned to face him with a sadness lurking in her eyes. "Her ability to fly may be rather up there with a low risk level but she has the weakness of a shield—I told you."

"I know. Emerald lacks a shield. Me, Tulip, and Turok don't have a weakness. Trixie's pyrokensis is outweighed by a hydrokensis—"

"Which was Kayne's next experiment," Violet added in.

"…And you're weak to radiowaves." He shook his head. "What a happy, fucked up family we all make."

She smiled. "Well I love you in return, dear brother."

_-----  
Calendar years: 1874_

Uno bellowed out a huge gush of air and stared up at the ceiling.

"You suck Turok."

… _Actually I believed Trixie sucked. Violet was too elegant to be nasty and Emerald was far too innocent. Trixie, on the other hand, was quite the little devil._

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't meaning that!"

_Then don't say it that way._

She groaned. "Why do you make things so hard?"

_Because I always found that fun to do._ Uno sat up and got out of bed. _Midnight stroll?_

"Midnight freshair," she corrected. "I can't sleep after _that_ dream."

_Weakling. Wufei would have been ashamed of you for acting like a woman._

"I am a woman, _baka_." She slipped on her slippers and reached for her cloat before exiting the room.

_Yes but he also hated children. You remember what you and Duo used to do to him, don't you?_ Uno smirked and simply giggled to herself. _Chasing him outside and making him slip in mud._

"Yeah but he _did_ teach me martial arts," she whispered while making her way up the many staircases towards the roof.

_Only because you were close to injuring yourself._

Uno frowned suddenly. "Why didn't you ever help me before the wars?"

_You never required it. The war wasn't your fight but you were the sole survivor. True, a few of us were captured and put to rest—you were born from it all._ Uno stepped out into the night. _You're a descendant. I simply aided you until you required my assistance._

"I see. Once again remind me that I'm not human."

_As often as you require me to._

She groaned. "Go to Hell, Turok. Can't you see that I _want_ to be normal? I want to be able to fall in love and—"

_And have kids? A family?_ Uno froze. _Don't forget Uno, you had your tube snipped. There's no turning back now._

"Perhaps not back… but forwards."

_No chance in any life _that'll_ happen._

She heaved a sigh and glanced around at the scenery before. The once black sky was now lighting up into a deep shade of blue. Uno could tell that in no time flat the sun would rise and the next day would begin.

With a pout she raised her head up towards one of the statues and began singing. "How can-you see, into-my-eyes like open doors? Leading you down, into my core—where I've become so numb…" she bowed her head. "Without a soul… my spirit's _sleeping_ somewhere _cold_—until-you find-it-there and-lead-it back home."

_Uno… you'd die without me._

"Wake me up inside!" She clenched her eyes. "Wake me up inside! Call my name and save me from the dark!" Uno spun to stare out at another direction. "Bid my blood to run—before I come undone! Save me from the nothing I've become!"

_But didn't you _want_ this nothing? To live this lie? After all… you're not fighting anyone but yourself _now

She tore her gaze away and clenched her eyes again.

"Now—that-I-know-what-I'm without… you-can't-just-leave-me here! Breathe into-me and make me real—bring-me… to life."

_Uno quit this nonsense,_ Turok demanded. _Didn't you want to end the war and leave it all behind? Didn't you _want_ to die? _She sniffled. _Just picture this Hell. It is, after all, a place you hate the most because no body knows who you really are and it's dangerous since you can be considered insane if you told them. Just think… no more Ricky._

Now Ricky's face popped up into her mind and tears formed behind her shut eyelids.

"Frozen-inside—without your touch," she whispered, "without your love, darling. Only-_you_ are the life among the dead." She opened her eyes and stared out past the blurrness of her vision. "I've been sleeping a thousand years—it seems! Got to open my eyes to everything!" After a blink the tears fell and her voice jumped. "Bring me… to life!"

_You're a dramacase,_ Turok muttered. _Have you known that?_

Uno hung her head and sniffled. "Go away," she whimpered out. "Please just go away."

_How many times must we repeat this?_ She sniffled again. _Fine—mope and cry about it. I'll take control from here._

Without her approval Turok forced Uno back into the theater and returned her to bed.


	33. Taming the Beast Within

**Yes! I am still alive! I've been really busy though. I graduated and got my certificate AND my degree! We are moving about 20-30 minutes away (out of West Houston and into Katy), and I have attached myself to yet another guy!**

**Geeze... I've been through three guys the span of this entire story! This new guy is an officer in the Army and got deployed, sadly, again. I spent much time with him in NC before he left... yes, he flew me to spend time with him.**

**Anywho, I've changed the way I do things. I won't be posting the lyrics of the music anymore, but rather tell you what she's singing so YOU can go find them and read them yourselves. Why am I doing this? I find that even I skip over those parts.**

**Okay, on with the fic.**

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Three -

"Uno!" Christine called out when she saw the braided diva rushing through the great hall. Uno glanced over her shoulder and saw Christine pacing up towards her.

"Talk quick—I'm in a rush."

Christine frowned but followed. "Why are you so busy today?"

"Madam Giry has me running errans for her," she replied. "Considering I don't dance anymore and I don't need anybody to teach me during the day."

That statement alone startled Christine. "Uno stop for a moment." She grabbed Uno's elbow and ceased the girl from moving on. Uno turned back tothe Viscountess and frowned.

"What?"

"Erik is your professor," Christine said. "Is he not?"

"That's right."

Christine pouted. "He is dangerous Uno. I fear for your safety."

"Why?"

"I told you what he has done to me." A distant sadness washed over her face. "I told you about the monster who had tried to steal me away from the world."

"Uh huh."

"Uno you're in danger if you keep this up."

"Alright."

"I'm only looking out for you." She sent the younger girl a weak smile. "I don't want you to get hurt. He has a spell cast over you as he did me. He tricked me, Uno. Erik deceived me into believing my father sent him to me."

"Perhaps your father _did_."

Christine shook her head. "My father passed away when I was a child. He always told me he would send me the Angel of Music when he left and I always believed Erik _was_ that Angel."

"You put too much faith into what one person has to say." Christine opened her mouth as if to protest but Uno gave her no chance. "Besides, fate has a way of working in odd ways. Perhaps he _was_ sent to you—ya' never know."

"Uno I'm scared for you. You danced with him wickedly at the ball and I've been trying to get a hold of you to talk to you about it all since that night." She released Uno's arm and hung her head. "I saw how happy you were with him, how content you were when he held you in his arms."

"Then why are you scared for me?" Uno crossed her arms over each other.

"I was deceived, Uno. I thought I wanted only him and he made me see nothing _but_ him." She stared back into the cold eyes of a girl she believed she knew so well. "That dance you had with him was wicked. It was different and seductive—it was as if you were possessed by the devil to dance like that!"

Uno rolled her eyes. "It's called contempo," she mumbled. "Apparently you don't know music enough to know when music that is upbeat and lifting should be danced upbeat and fiery." Uno took on a hard edge to her voice. "With Erik I feel fury within—something I haven't felt in _years_, Christine. He understands me and I understand him. He thinks he's a monster because of people like _you_!"

Christine gasped. "You've seen beneath his mask!"

"Yeah and I must say I don't see a demonic creature as badly as the one I'm staring at right now," Uno snarled. "I don't see the devil as I see when I look at your husband."

"Uno!" Christine covered her mouth with her hands. "What are you saying?"

"The _devil_ is perfect in every way, Christine. He's not diseased or deformed. He's not a monster in appearance. He's perfect. He's lust. He's everything everyone wants in a human being so he can seduce you." Uno heaved a great sigh. "A man named La Rochefoucauld once said a quote I find most appalling, at this moment. 'If we had no defects ourselves, we should not take so much pleasure in noting those of others.'"

Christine lowered her hands and frowned. "I don't understand."

"You believe yourself to be perfect, as your husband does too. But if you're so perfect you wouldn't pinpoint somebody's faults out because that makes you a monster inside. It makes you cruel and unyielding; because that person can't help the way they were born." Christine bowed her head in thought. "He also said this, 'In the intercourse of life we please, often, more by our defects than by our good qualities.'"

Christine felt tears threaten to fall. "Uno—you're words are like ice."

"Then I'll stab you with icles until you grow up," Uno spat out harshly. "Christine—until you learn that not _everyone_ is as perfect as _you_, you will forever be niaeve and oblivious to the world around you."

"You're so sure of yourself," Christine raised her head. Tears were in her eyes but a forced grin—one Uno noticed was more aggressive than pleasing—made its way in a vengeful way. "You sound as if you know everything, as if you've seen the world, perhaps more. You talk to me right now as if you're the most brilliant person alive."

Uno stared right back at the cold face with her old war-expression of self-solitude and hatred. Boiling hate began to sear through her veins, forcing her blood to bubble.

"I _have_ seen the world," she said darkly, her voice flat. "I have seen more than just the world, as well. I have been to both Heaven and Hell and I assure you—they are not what you think. I have seen human skulls torn apart and their blood splattering everything. I have seen the eyes of a man glaze over as I put a bullet into his brain. I haven _even_ witnessed my own family dying because of a stupid mistake I made and I had to hold my father in my hands as I watched the life and soul leave his body." Fear trickled down Christine's spine.

"I assure you, _Christine_, I have seen things no man from this time can remain sane from. I have done things no human being should ever have to do. I have created such catastrophies because the very breath in my body continues to remain. Don't believe everything you see or hear, Christine. I'm first hand experience and fact that not all statements are correct."

Christine's bottom lip began to tremble. "You are…"

"And from where I come from," Uno continued with the same dark and serious voice, "I _am_ the most brilliant person alive."

"You're frightening me," she breathed out. "You are truly frightening me right now."

"Now you see how Erik feels when he looks in the face of a perfect creature."

Uno turned and continued her way running Madam Giry's chores, leaving a terrified Viscountess alone.

-

As Uno walked across the balcony of the great hall to return to her room after her chores were complete she heard her name shouted. She paused and glanced down to see Raoul rushing up the steps to meet her.

Uno sighed. _Can't anyone leave me alone?_

"Uno," Raoul called out with a smile. "Might I have a word with you?"

"Words are but meaningless statements made by those who are ignorant," she replied. Raoul paused and frowned at her. "Fine—say your word and be gone with you."

"I…" he paused to shake his head clear of her previous insult. "You looked elegant the other night."

"Uh huh."

"Remarkable and you matched very well."

Uno heaved a sigh and leaned against the banister. "Matched who? Erik? The man you fear because he is better than you?"

Raoul choked. "Uno, you are being insane."

"Am I?"

He frowned and glanced around briefly before gripping her elbow and ushering her into the hallway and into a box. Uno allowed him to force her to sit down and glanced up to see his perplexed frown. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the half-wall. She smiled and batted her lashes then crossed a leg over the other.

"May I help you with anything?"

"Tell me about him," he spat. "Tell me about Erik."

Uno sighed. "Why do you people insist on believing that he's tricking me?"

"Because who in their right mind would find Erik worthy of sharing anything with, words or a hug—much less _friendship_?" He spat out 'friendship' as if it were venom on his tongue.

Uno frowned. "I beg your pardon, Raoul, but Erik is more man than anyone I have seen in this _entire_ city since I arrived here many months back."

Raoul gaped. "Uno—the _man_ has a reputation of being a criminal!"

"Oh gee," Uno breathed out. She glanced away and relaxed in the chair. "'How difficult it is to save the bark of reputation from the rocks of ignorance'." She paused for a moment before adding in, "A man named Petrarch said that."

"Uno—"

"I believe you are terrified of me and him taking over the theater," she turned to him with a wicked grin. "I do believe that you fear us proving to be the best this opera house has ever seen."

"Far from it," he growled out. "I fear him tricking you into staying with him in his cave. Tell me, have you seen who he really claims to be?"

"The Angel of Music?" She asked. Raoul gaped at her. "The Devil's Child? Or how about the Phantom of the Opera?"

"You know?"

She shrugged her shoulder. "I know that he's just a man who bleeds like you and me." Uno glanced away again. "I have many names, myself. Uno Maxwell, Uno Cleaver, The Perfect Soldier. Shinimegami. Queen Uno."

"You mean Empress," Raoul corrected.

Uno shook her head and turned back to him. "Queen."

"What country?" He frowned. "I was told that word on the street has it you claim to be an Empress of Japan—wherever that may be."

She chuckled. "Sad, really. You have no idea about this world. I guess where I come from people really _do_ need my help." She hung her head. "To think it's people like you that caused our society to go into battle as often as it does."

"There is no war," he spat. "Don't be ridiculous."

"That's what you say now," Uno breathed out. "Because you tuck your tails under your legs and run. You're a dog that wags it's tail to it's master—which is whoever runs France's 'High Society' status report."

Raoul gawked but Uno ceased his protest. "Oh I'm sorry—I forgot." She smiled. "You're not a dog that wags its tail at its master. Instead, you're the tail that gets wagged."

"What are you implying?" Raoul spat. "That I'm a mouse and not a man?"

Uno shot to her feet and shouted in his face, "You're not a man if you flee from a fight!"

"Oh and I suppose _Erik_ would stay and fight?"

"He's man enough to not put up with trash like you and the rest of society! He won't back down from a fight if the fight tries to kill him—as _you_ try to kill him!"

"I don't try to kill him—he's a criminal and he has bought the police himself! I'm only trying to bring justice to level!"

"Justice?" Uno choked out a short laugh. "Justice, right? If you want justice, Raoul, then you should step down from your perch and take a look around."

"What?"

"People fight Erik because he looks different than them," she explained. "They hate him because he's deformed." Raoul gaped in shock at her. "But I hate all of you because you're so perfect! You have to have your image so you can fit in with the rest of the world while you leave people like him out to dry!"

"You've seen beneath his mask," muttered Raoul, breathlessly.

"I hate suffering the way I do," she spat. "I hate having to live with your kind. _People_ who think I'm just like you. _People_ who think they know better than everyone else simply because they _look_ better. But I'm _not_ like you all! I'm just like him—torn from two sides of life because I can't fit in no matter _how hard I try_!"

"You've seen the monster," he murmured.

"Erik is no monster, Raoul." She growled. "The only monsters I have ever seen are you perfect people. You have to have your image to fit when he has his talents and abilities. You scare him away into the shadows because he looks different. I look different but you don't see _my_ defects!"

"You've seen beneath the mask."

"Yeah—I have. And instead of turning away in fear I saw a God." Raoul's face twisted in disgust. "That's right. I saw a God because the devil will look like you—all perfect and seductive. I saw a God because he has flaws and isn't perfect. I saw a God because he has such talent that everywhere I've been in _all_ my life I've never_ once_ found somebody capable of competing against him. _Hell_, even _I_ can't compete against him and people used to claim that _I_ was perfect!"

"You're mad," he murmured in shock. "Truly mad."

"No Raoul—you're mad. I'm sane and human. He's Apollo, the God of entertainment and media—the God of Music. You and Christine and the rest of your high society status report are mad. You think you're better than everyone else, that you're perfect."

Raoul glanced down in thought.

"Your kind sickens me."

She turned on her heels and left him alone.

-

"The nerve of some people!" She slammed her door shut and locked it. Uno flung herself against it and stared at the covered mirror before her, impatient to the max.

"In _one_ day, _two_ people had to come tell me that Erik's a mind-eating alien ready to kill me at any given time!"

"I wouldn't agree that I would like to kill you," came a deep voice which held a bit of surprise to it.

Uno heaved a sigh and pushed off the door. She moved the drape away from the mirror and saw Erik standing in the doorway. He stared down at her and frowned, watching as she tucked the drape into the corner of the frame.

"Christine and Raoul had words with me earlier," she muttered.

"So I heard," Erik muttered back. "I do not know what you had to say to either one of them but I must say I am quite curious."

"Curoisity killed the cat." She turned her back to him and strode into the room.

"And satisfaction brought it back," he added in. Uno paused, turned to him, and frowned. "The rats say much and I have spare time to listen."

She turned away and frowned. "To think that corny phrase is used this far back in the timeline."

"Uno," Erik stepped through the portal, "you have a show tomorrow night. Are you prepared?"

"Yes," she breathed out. "But I'd much rather dance."

"Why not sing?"

"I hate singing," she lied.

"Nonsense," Erik spat. "I see the look in your eyes—whenever you sing you love it. It radiates off you like beauty."

Uno glanced down. "I'd much rather be a no body for a change. I've always been a somebody—I'd like to be a no body once in a while."

"You were for a while but you were apparently born to be a somebody. Be grateful that you at least _have_ that ability."

She turned to stare at him. "What are you saying?"

"Charline does not have any enhanced talent it would take to become a prima ballerina or a diva. She would never become a prima donna in any way."

"Hm."

He nodded. "See my point? Many others envy your talent."

"I see your point." A silence settled over them and after a brief moment Uno realized something. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"… Why are you here?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it, and looked to the side of the room. "I wonder if I may borrow sheets of music."

Her brows shot to her hairline. "You need music paper?"

"I ran out."

Uno smirked. Was that a blush she saw on his cheeks?

_I guess everyone runs into some sort of obstacle once in their lives._

She chuckled but went to her desk. "Sure."

"This is no laughing matter," he said darkly but she sensed a hint of sarcasm to his words. "The music store is closed for this week because the owner had left town to go to England for an affair."

"That's all right." She laughed softly and pulled out a small stack of sheets. "We all run into problems in our lives."

Erik growled and received the paper from her but caught her wrists before allowing her to back away. Uno stared at his fingers wrapped around her wrist then up to see his twinkling eyes, set with determination.

"Do not laugh at me," he bit out sharply.

Uno smiled and battered her lashes. "Don't growl at me," she countered.

His eyes narrowed. "I mean you harm."

Her smile turned into a wicked grin and her voice took on a seductive tone.

"Good."

Erik released a deep sigh that turned into a growl. "You are tempting me, woman."

"And you are invading a woman's private quarters, Sir." He paused and took a glance around then returned to the owner of the sweet yet coying voice.

Without saying a word Erik leaned down to give Uno a quick, fiery, passionate kiss that left her legs shaking and her body weak. Her eyes closed the instant their lips touched and the moment she felt him pull away her eyes opened to reveal her room empty and the mirror drape pulled back down.

Uno inhaled a deep breath. "That man," she paused for a moment, "knows how to make my body quiver."

"Second person who ever did, no?" Turok said from behind. "Or third?"

Uno frowned and turned back to see Turok leaning agains the door. "Third."

"Ricky was first and Justin was second—wow Uno… true love seems to come in every direction for you, doesn't it?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from the desk. "You don't know how it feels to be in love." Uno began unlacing her gown and stepped up to her armoire.

"True—I don't." Turok watched as Uno undressed and pulled out new clothes from her selections. "I was always too busy enjoying my life."

"Hn… you got captured."

"Yeah and you got me for being nosey so I guess we're equal."

She rolled her eyes again. "Don't remind me—I'm stuck with you for life."

Turok grinned. He pushed off the door and stepped up to her. "Doesn't have to be boring, Uno." He sat on her bed, the sheets around him not caving in due to her imaginary vision. "But I can always make it fun."

"Oh joy," she said sarcastically. "How ever will you accomplish that?"

A warm feeling pooled in her belly all of a sudden and her knees grew weak. Uno collapsed to the floor in a heap and panted heavily. She leaned over and moaned softly while pleasurable feelings tickled her inner core. The heat between her legs enhanced and a wet feeling around her inner thighs grew.

The sensation disappeared no sooner than it had began.

"See my point?"

Uno shot him a dark glare. "That was uncalled for!"

"But didn't it feel _so_ good?" He teased. "Didn't you enjoy the sudden orgasm when you don't even need to work at getting to it?"

"Turok," she warned.

"Just sit back and let me work your body to its fullest."

"Turok…"

"You have no idea how tantalizing your body can really be if used to its fullest capacity."

"Turok!" Uno shot to her feet and growled. "Quit this at once!"

He only grinned in return. Before she knew it, she was back on the floor with another, random orgasm. It ended half a minute later.

"Ah jeeze this is great," Turok teased.

"Damn you," she rushed out. The sensation returned. "Gah!"

"Oh Uno—you're killing me!" He laughed. "You're truly a sexy woman if you let yourself losen up."

He stopped his torture and let her be.

Uno groaned and fell backwards onto her back. "Why do you haunt me?"

"Cause its fun. And besides… you could easily be a sexy woman if you let yourself do it."

"I know." She closed her eyes. "But why would I want to?"

"Why are you falling in love again? Third time's a charm, though." He winked at her. "Ricky was a killer—litterally. Justin was a blast—litterally. Perhaps Erik is a charm."

She smirked. "Everyone thinks he's put magic spells and charms on me. I'm not surprised."

"So why not losen up and enjoy your new life?"

"Because I don't want to relive history!" She bolted upright and snarled at him. "Charline almost died because of it."

Turok frowned. "You haven't put your history behind you, Uno. You're still reliving it by reminding yourself _why_ you can't become a famous person."

She frowned. "What are you saying? That even though no body's here from my life that I should put it all behind me and start over?"

"The only reason your history repeats is because you let it repeat by making it happen. You don't change things by changing yourself." Uno sighed and glanced away. "Why don't you become a new person and put this behind you?"

Sadness lurked behind her words.

"… I don't know how…"

"Try to think about what Duo would do in your shoes, Uno. You're like Sarah right now. Like Heero, she'd not be able to change to fit a new life."

"Hm…" she hung her head. "Duo'll change and have a blast with new people to torment."

"Exactly."

"I guess I can try."

He smiled. "Now are you just saying that to shut me up or will you mean it?"

Uno glared him. "Stop reading my mind."

"I won't go away until you really decide to change." She stood up and turned to him. "So say yes and I'll just be there to protect you from harm."

"Oh and you won't annoy me anymore?"

"Nah I'll just let you go."

She heaved a sigh and after a moment's wait, she agreed.

"Fine."

-

The clock in the room chimed midnight and Uno looked up from her desk where the puzzle she bought many months back sat half finished. She frowned and stared at the hands of the clock then back down to the Opera Populare picture on the face of the puzzle. She heaved a sigh and groaned.

"Come on Uno… it's not that hard to change into somebody else." She closed her eyes, rested her head in her hands, and heaved a sigh. "I used to be innocent. I used to not know a thing. Even though everyone trained me to fight I was still a sweet girl who enjoyed plubicity."

The _ticking_ of the clock rang out in the room. She glanced back up to see that five minutes have passed then sighed aloud.

"I used to love to sing…. I can still sing." Uno pushed out of her chair and stood up. "I still love it. Ricky's not around to hear me… Synodd isn't here to spy on me. My enemies are all dead—what would it hurt?"

_Go for it._

She nodded and held a fist to her chest, determination sweeping across her. "I can do this. Heero changed his ways after his war died—he may have not done that much but he changed nonetheless—he tried, at least."

Uno went to the roof and made certain she was alone before wrapping the cloak around her body more and clearing her throat. She began to sing.

(AN: I will not post the lyrics anymore, but here is where Uno sings 'Breathe No More' by Evanescence.)

_Beautiful Uno. But do you feel you really know what you want or are you just chanting it all to yourself?_

She heaved a sigh. "I'm torn between two sides, Turok. I want to be innocent and lively again, like I was with Theresa, but I'm being tormented by the memories of my war. I don't know what to do."

_What do you _want _to do?_

She closed her eyes and hung her head. "I don't know. I want to stay the same because you never know when something bad will happen and my 'war self' can help prevent or fight it. But I want to turn back time and be innocent again… be free."

_You can't do both. Whereas you may have more fun being free it'll be safer for you to remain the same. This choice is yours. All _I_ can do is show you two sides to it._

She nodded. "I know."

_Go ahead to bed and wake up with a clear mind enough to think about._

Without arguing, Uno followed his orders.


	34. Confronting the Devil

**Consider this a "returning to school" gift to a certain few people out there who are returning to school this thursday, although the main chapter I know that will please you will be the next one. But anywho... have a blast and minors can't read the ending of this chapter.  
**

- Chapter Thirty-Four -

The hallways were filled with people rushing to get to the back stage of the theater. The grand entry was bustling with the highest of society, Paris making an impression upon the world with bright colors. The staff worked hard trying to get everything under control while the actors relaxed before a massive opera.

Uno stood amongst them all, watching them with a keen eye, learning everyone's move.

_You ready?_

"Hmm." She heaved a breath. "This sucks."

"Uno?" Uno turned around to see Charline. "Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?"

"You're the diva tonight," Charline reminded her. "Are you nervous about the act? It's the full act." Charline stepped up to the banister and looked out over the first floor. "I heard the rats saying that this is the first time the managers have ever put on a full show."

Uno smirked. Charline never used the negative names about her peers until she learned that Uno wasn't a tender heart and already took everything with a strong iron fist.

"This is a huge event."

"I'm surprised," Uno said. "You never used such harsh words before."

Charline gave her a weak smile. "I never thought I could get away with being strong until I met you."

"Hmm. Sad but I see where you're coming from. No body here has a backbone."

"But us," Charline added in with a grin. "Two Americans put out of society because we're stronger than them."

Uno bit her lower lip. "Yeah… two Americans." She turned away and let the nervous expression slip for a moment.

It did the moment Charline gasped and grasped her arm. "Uno—that's _her_!"

Uno frowned. "Who?"

Charline pointed out into the sea of faces to a woman with a massive feather hat that stood above seven feet tall. She was covered in gold and horrible pink eye shadow. Uno grimaced at the figure her best friend pointed out.

"La Carlotta! She's the diva before you intervened."

"Oh great." She rolled her eyes. "Now I have another one to get out of my hair."

Charline gasped softly. "Not _her_, Uno. If she disappears they will question _everyone_. If you want to shut her up you better work secretively because she can't go missing."

Uno stared at Charline's concerned gaze and softened her own. She never assumed Charline would hold her secrets to the grave pertaining to the several murders Uno had already produced. Charline smiled weakly and turned back to the sea of color below them. Uno followed and did the same, not caring that she had to open the show and should be getting ready.

"So are you ready?"

Uno sighed. "I don't care for it. I want to dance."

"You're selfish," Charline muttered.

"Excuse me?" Charline turned to the shocked face of the cold hearted killer. "What did you just say?"

She locked cold stares with the violet eyes and never turned away. "I said you're selfish. You want to dance and be a no body but you should be thrilled that you even have the chance to _be _a some body. _I'm_ stuck as a rat and can't upgrade but you… _you_ can go on living as a star."

Uno frowned. "Charline?"

"I'm just happy to be your friend."

"And she's up there, not even caring that she has a show to prepare for!" Suddenly everyone's face was on her. Uno frowned and turned to glance down at the sea of facing staring up at her with the feather-head as the leader. "_You_ don't even _care_ about this theater! You should be getting ready for the show and here you are, yapping with a ballet rat instead of glistening in the spot light. You are, and will _always_ be, a _rat_!"

Uno's eyes narrowed.

"_I_ would have been in the back right now, getting ready for the show, prepping up and testing my voice. Not stand here and mingle and gossip with ballet rats." She feigned a chuckle. "It's apparent that you still share the common wealth of a rat if you haven't moved up from them."

"Like wise," Uno spat back. The room grew silent. "After all, at least I know _how_ to live like a low level instead of always being a stuck up prick."

Carlotta growled. "Once a low level you will _always_ be a low level."

Uno shrugged casually. "Thank God. Why would I want to be like everyone else in this room?" She sent sneers to everyone staring up at her. "All pompous and filled with so much wealth you burn it. Why would I want to be snobbish when I can be thankful for what I have and not take any of it for granted? Where as you all waltz around in your fruity clothing, your feather hats, and your royal status, you ignore the little people who don't have the ability to be like you and never will." She turned to stare down into the eyes of her managers and hardened her gaze. "Everyone in this room will burn in Hell for the way you treat your common wealth. _Everyone_ here will burn for their sins, their lust, and their ignorance to the not-so-lucky."

"Mademoiselle Maxwell! I command you to—"

"To go on explaining myself—why thank you, Monsieur Firmin." Uno batted her lashes at him. "You all know I'm right, after all. Why else would you feel this horrible about yourselves? Why would my manager attempt to silence me?" She turned to flash a bright grin at Charline before returning to the sea of sinners below. "But as I was saying… whereas we struggle to even buy food for a small meal, you're all busy wasting it on your crown jewels, you're expensive clothing, and your exquisite tastes."

She narrowed her eyes at Carlotta. "After all, I may have become a diva because I have the ability to do such a thing, I won't turn against my friends and change who I love. You can't buy friends, but of course _you_ all think you can simply because you have the money." She paused in thought. "Why… what would happen if you lost that money? You'd lose your precious friends! And then where would you be? Right back where you began, but this time, _without_ friends to back you up. And those low-class friends _won't_ help you because you left them in the dirt."

"You will always been a rat," Carlotta sneered.

Uno smiled. "Better than being a snake like the rest of you." She left a space in her insults for the room to gasp. "After all, I've lived poor and on the streets once before that I know _how_ to live like a rat. Any of you will be stuck and miserable, not knowing what to do and what to eat. You will commit crimes because you do not know how to survive without being in trouble—and if you don't turn into criminals, you will starve."

She returned to stare down into her managers. "So while you all go on pretending to be pompous pricks I'll stick to the friends I have because I know friends are the hardest to come by. All of _your _friends are fake and only come to you for money whereas mine come to me for my personality and of how I take care of them." Uno locked her arm with Charline's and smiled. "But then again, it could just be us two lonely American's who have the backbone to be humane."

She pulled Charline away from the banister and began backing away herself. "Now if you all were to excuse me, I _do_ have a show to prepare for. And I know the managers can't fire me for then they will no longer have a show and will have to return all of your tickets, refunding _all_ that money, which in turn would shut them down. Or, on the other hand, they can't fire me _after_ the show because after you hear me, you will all rather listen to mice squeal than Carlotta croak like the toad she is."

The room was silent as they recalled when the phantom had caused her to croak in another show. Just as Uno turned away from the balcony entirely she caught the gleam of a white mask in the shadows.

-

"Oh my God, Uno!" Charline covered her mouth as the two of them pranced down the hall on the way to the rooms. "You're so horrible!"

"But honest," Uno corrected. Charline laughed loudly.

"That was beautiful!" She stopped at Uno's door. "I can't believe you did that."

"Yeah well watch how they'll react when I step onto stage."

Charline frowned. "What do you mean?" She followed Uno into the room. "What do you plan on doing?"

"Not what I'm doing but rather… how I'll look." She stepped up to the armoire as Charline sat on the settee. "I'll need your help for my hair."

"Alright."

"I'll tell you what to do."

"Okay." Uno took out the gown and Charline gasped. "Oh my God, Uno! That's more than exquisite!"

Uno looked down at it. "You think so?"

Charline stepped up to her and felt the fabric of the gown. She frowned. "It's too much… for this show."

"Nonsense." Uno rolled her eyes. "And Madam Wilma said it was the most extravagant she's ever made, beyond my other gowns."

"But the show… what did the seamstress say?"

Uno stared Charline in the eyes and contemplating on whether or not to confide in her friend. She decided.

"The owner admitted me."

Charline frowned. "You mean…" The color drained from her face. "Uno—you _didn't_!"

Uno looked away and laid the gown out on the bed. "He permitted me to change the decorations a bit. I said the gown they had originally made was sleazy and not elegant enough. He said if I can come up with a better idea and make it, he will have the managers pay for it."

"Do they know they were paying for it?"

"Nope." She grinned at her friend while unfastening her corset. "But they'll find out when Erik charges double for his common fee."

Charline began helping Uno dress. "So you're infatuated with him?"

"Hmm. I guess."

Charline rolled her eyes. "You _guess_." She slapped the back of Uno's head. "Uno!"

"What!" Uno choked out a laugh. "I… I like him a lot, let's just say that."

She rolled her eyes. "Like and love are two distinct things, dear. I think you should contemplate them each."

"Hmm."

After Charline helped Uno into the gown she sat down in the chair and let her address her hair. The long braid unraveled, leaving behind beautiful silky brown hair in its wake. Uno's hair was so long that it pooled on the floor. Charline started brushing and hummed softly.

"Well… I can't wait to see how excellent you'll sound tonight."

Uno smiled and shut her eyes. "Thank you, Charline." The brush stilled. "Even though I've always been an ass to you, I still have you to consider a friend."

Charline smiled and continued brushing. "You're the most mentally insane person I know." Uno laughed aloud suddenly, a warm feeling radiated off it and sent Charline's body currents of heat. "I'm serious though, Uno. I've seen some mentally disturbed people when I lived in America but you…"

"I top them all?"

"You can turn it on and off at times that I simply gave up wondering if you really mean well or not." She brushed the under hairs. "But after tonight I know for a fact that you don't hate me."

Uno opened her eyes and stared down at her lap. "I'm sorry for treating you so badly but…"

"It's alright." Charline shrugged it off. "I know you get stressed out easily. If you're not taking it out on me you're killing somebody."

She breathed out a deep breath. "I need to tell you something but…"

"I know," Charline said coolly. "I know you need to tell me everything but not now." Uno closed her eyes. "Now, you'll need to get ready for the show."

_You'll never have a friend this loving,_ Turok told her.

"So is Erik you're white knight in shining armor?" Charline asked sweetly.

Uno rolled her eyes. "If anything, he's my black knight."

"Oh come on," Charline scoffed out. "Only because he's in black."

"No seriously," Uno corrected. "The white knight in all the tales is bad and corrupted." The brushed stilled. "The black knight prevails because he never follows the rules to accomplish his tasks." Charline stepped around the chair to look her friend in the eye, a concerned gaze coming from her own. "What?"

"So you'd take the black knight because he's not corrupted and he breaks rules to follow orders?"

"Better than a stuck up white knight who's corrupted and cruel." Uno smiled. "Besides, the black knight's always have some dark history behind them that intrigues the women they capture."

Charline shook her head. "You two really do belong together, Uno." Uno frowned. "Erik being your black knight, though in this case, I don't know who the real savior is."

Uno chuckled. "That's true, too."

"Hmm… your hair down… you look different, radiating, and beautiful." Uno frowned. "I have an idea."

-

The audience was littered with bodies gossiping in all ways. The same people who previously littered the grand entry had now moved into the theater to sit down and prepare for the show. They would all hate Uno before the show but after the show?

Charline knew Uno was going to make a huge impact with her ability and her new look.

The crowd grew quiet, the managers shushing everyone, and they waited. Uno would be first to make the appearance.

When the curtains drew back darkness pooled in on the stage. In the middle of the darkness stood the rarest beauty anyone would ever see and Charline had almost all the credit for it.

Different hair styles always gave somebody a new look.

The spot light lit up and washed Uno in brightness. Charline gasped softly. Uno was more than just beautiful.

She was amazing.

Her long—so long it was down to her shins—brown hair glittered with the jewels weaved into practically each strand. The glitter on her face mixed with the sparkles from her hair gave her that aura of shine. The makeup she wore brought it all out in an elegant, crisp, way.

Charline smiled and tilted her head in awe. "Uno," she whispered, "you'll win everyone tonight no matter what was said."

The show began and the moment Uno began singing, her radiant look wasn't the only thing that mesmerized people.

Her voice was like that of a Goddess.

-

"You are the most beautiful diva we have ever seen and your voice is one to match," came a compliment like so many others Uno had been receiving since the show ended. Another bag of red roses pushed into her hands. "Such true beauty."

Uno laughed softly. "Thank you. I never really even wanted this job but…" she glanced up at an angle and saw Charline smiling down at her from above. "But somebody talked me out of my stupidity."

"I should hope so," he retorted. She turned back to him. "You make La Carlotta sound like—"

"Like a toad," Uno finished. "Yes, I agree."

"I would so love to take you out to dinner only my wife would not enjoy it," he pouted softly. "But if I may, can I have the honors of walking you to your room?"

She feined a blush and smiled. "Sure you can." Uno extended her arm and briefly glanced back up at Charline. The ballerina mouthed a statement that Uno had no trouble in reading then disappeared in the crowd upstairs.

"I'll see you later," Charline had mouthed.

Uno smiled at the man and walked him to her door, all the while receiving more gifts and flowers for her show. When she finally reached the door she smiled at him.

"Well I am glad you enjoyed my singing."

"Most definitely."

She bowed her head. "Even though the night is young I have to turn in. I've still a lot to do tomorrow."

He smiled. "Of course, I understand." The man kissed the top of her hand. "Have a splendid night, Mademoiselle Maxwell."

"Goodnight." She entered her room to see Erik leaning against the wall opposite of her. "Erik—hi."

He smirked. "You turned out to be better than we've both intended," he said softly. "It's apparent that my managers want you officially, as their diva."

She felt exhausted all of a sudden. "Great," she groaned out.

A brow rose. "You do not want it?"

"Well…" Uno pushed away from the door. "I don't know. I mean, I still don't want to become a famous person, considering how I was always famous my whole life."

"Famous… how so?"

She bit her lower lip. "Erik I—" There was a knock on her door. "Hang on."

She went to the door and turned around to see if he were still there but found the drapery over her mirror swaying, indicating that he was hiding behind it. Uno sighed and opened the door to see Christine.

"Hi."

Christine smile and bowed her head a little, pointing at the room. "Might I come in?"

Uno backed up. "Sure." She closed the door behind the Victomtess. "What's up?"

Christine smiled brightly. "I just have to congradulate you," she said timidly. "You're tremendous."

Uno smirked. "My voice or my hair or both?"

"Both!" Christine smiled. "Your dress is fabulous, your hair is glamorous, and your voice… you have the best voice I have ever heard."

"I hope not _ever_," Uno remarked. Christine shut her mouth immediately.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can not say his name in here."

Uno frowned and heard a soft groan that she knew Christine couldn't hear. Apparently Erik was listening into their conversation.

_Better keep it tight lipped, then._

"But I wish to tell you how wonderful you did," Christine explained. Uno smiled and bowed her head.

"Thank you."

Christine smiled. "And I'm sure that if… well if he hasn't… your voice might call…" Uno frowned when she saw Christine sigh in exhaustion and chew on her lower lip. She turned away to stare at the wall, wondering how to form her words.

"I'm thinking that… you… he…"

"You're afraid her voice may call me to her if I was not already involved," Erik said for her. Christine spun around to see Erik, clad in his usual black attire with cape included, his white mask glistening in the lamp light, leaning against the wall near the mirror. His arms were crossed together, one leg crossed over the other, and he stood there casually grinning at the Victomtess.

"Erik," Christine breathed out. The last time she saw him at all was when she left him alone in his lair three years ago.

Erik inclined his head slightly. "Christine."

"Well I—I uh…" She swallowed hard. Uno smirked as she witnessed the famous woman struggle to get her words out. "That is I…"

"I believe she's trying to say 'you startled her.'" Uno explained. Christine glanced at her briefly before staring at Erik. "Right Christine?"

Christine swallowed again and timidly nodded her head in agreement. "I must admit that I _am_ amazed to see you after the last time."

Darkness flashed across his eyes momentarily. "Must I remind you, child," Erik began, "that I hide in the shadow for a reason and it is not _just_ because of my face." Christine bowed her head in shame. "And I am not going to hurt Uno the way you believe I have hurt you." He turned to see Uno standing in the background, her stare set firmly on his face. "She is, after all, a victorious woman on her own."

A smirk came to Uno's face. "That's for damn sure."

"Well I… I was just concerned, that's all." Christine turned back to Uno. "I am scared for you."

"If your concern for me is that strongly then pray you don't ever learn of my life up until you first met me," Uno explained. "You may have a heart attack."

Erik frowned. "I wish to know the life which you so carefully keep hidden."

Uno smiled a chesire cat smile and batted her lashes at him. "Ain't that a bitch? Too bad you won't."

Christine reddened from the foul language. "Your mouth—"

"Yeah I know." Uno waved her hand at the remark and rolled her eyes. "Charm school slapped me around for it, as well." She stepped up to her armoire. "As did my family until they disappeared on me."

Christine frowned. "Disappeared?"

"History, Christine," Uno spat out. She opened the doors and turned back to the woman. "A history that, to any normal man or woman, would be considered a sinful horror, a giagantic nightmare, or a land of Hell."

Christine hung her head. "I will leave you for the night."

"Goodnight Christine," Uno said.

Erik bowed his head. "Good night, child." When she left Erik heaved a sigh. "She is still afraid of me."

Uno snorted. "She's scared of her own shadow."

He raised a brow. "I am afraid of my own reflection."

Uno chuckled. "You have a right to be." She came around her armoire clad in only her under garments. When Erik turned to face her he froze and drew in a sharp intake of air. "After all, it's not normal but I'm not scared because I _have_ seen worse."

"Uno," Erik whispered. He dropped his hands to the sides and stood firm. Erik stared down at her breasts as they practically spilled out over the brim of her black corset; her entire set of undergarments were black with red lacing.

Uno reached behind her back to begin unlacing the corset. "Yes Erik?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as she hung her head to stare down at her feet while the corset became unhalf unlaced. His lowered his gaze to the floor as well and stared at her legs, encased in black lace stockings with a garder belt, black and red lace yet again. Then the corset fell to the ground between them and he raised his eyes to her body, which was thankfully tucked away behind her thick brown hair.

"Erik?" She called to him. "Are you alright?" He swallowed again and glanced up into her eyes. "You look pale."

His lower lip quivered. "I…"

She smiled seductively. "You're speechless for a first." He shut his lips immediately. "Is something wrong?"

"I really must leave," he rushed out though Uno caught the strained growl in his voice. "I only came to tell you how wonderful you were tonight."

Her smile remained as she turned her slightly to the side. "Wonderful doesn't begin to describe how the night will end, Erik."

He finally growled a low, fierce, animal growl from deep in his throat. "You vixen," he seethed out. She slowly blinked her eyelids at him, seducing him in every way she knew how. "You vile, wretched creature."

"Oh come now," she purred. "I know you don't really _mean_ that."

Erik was breathing heavy now. Uno took a step closer and licked her lower lip, the sensationg driving Erik mad. Her eyes trailed down his chest and lower as a thought struck her.

"You know… for somebody who needs to leave," she paused and stared back up into his jade green eyes, her breasts touching his jacket, albeit hidden behind locks of brown hair, "you sure are… _stiff_."

Another sharp inhale of breath. "Uno," he breathed out.

She stood on her toes and leaned up to the neckline of the right side of his face. Erik stiffened, unsure of her motives. His hands clenched and unclenched as his sides as he felt her bare breasts rubbing against his jacket and fought down the urge to wrap his arms around her and take her the way he once wanted to take Christine.

"Erik," she whispered. Her warm breath fanned his neck, sending shivers down his spine and making his blood rush to his loins. Her tongue darted out and tapped against his skin lightly. Erik jumped and clenched his fists as he fought the urge to grab her and throw her on the bed.

She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck for support. "Can you please do me a favor?"

"Wha-what?" He asked, his voice scratchy with barely contained lust. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What?"

"You're an artist," she commented casually. He nodded in silence. "Can you paint a portrait of me?"

He frowned. "A portrait?"

"Please?" She lapped at his skin and kissed it, feeling him inhale another sharp breath. "Pretty please?"

A dark challenge came across his mind. With a small smirk he countered her seduction. "What do _I_ get out of it, then?"

Uno closed her eyes as the smile that played on her lips was genuine. She pushed back a little then backed away entirely. Erik watched her intensely as she raised her arms to the back of her neck and began pulling the hair away from her body. Erik cought glimpses of her breasts poking out between the gaps of hair and felt his knees weaken.

"Oh I'm sure you'll think of _some_thing," she purred out. When she opened her eyes back up she saw he was staring at her chest. Suddenly, there was no more hair to pull away and Uno's breasts came into full view for him to see.

"Hm?"

"My goodness," he breathed out. "Uno…"

"Yes Erik?"

His eyes washed her body, clad in barely a thing with her chest fully exposed to him. He returned to her violet, seductive gaze, his lower lip quivering, his lips dry all of a sudden. He licked them moist and found it didn't do the trick after just the first time.

"Is something wrong? You look," she paused to scan his body briefly, as well, "a little high-strung."

"You have no idea how badly I want to throw you onto your bed right now," he growled out.

"You can so long as you paint me a portrait," she countered.

He stared into her eyes, truly mesmerized yet now a little scared. "Of your naked body?"

She chuckled softly, sexy. "No. Of me in the most elegant feature you can put me in." She trailed her fingertips down her bare body until they hung limply by her sides. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he rushed out without thinking. "But I will not lay a hand on you."

_That_ got her stumped. She frowned. "What?"

Erik swallowed and turned away from her. "I will not tarnish your beauty with my touch," he told her. "I can only look. I cannot touch."

"Erik—I'm allowing you—"

"I bid you a goodnight, Mademoiselle Maxwell," he rushed out before she could get her words out. Before Uno had a chance to reply he had disappeared and shut the mirror behind him.

Uno stood their dumbfounded.

_Well that was a new one,_ Turok commented.

"No shit." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd think every guy would have taken the opportunity."

_Well that is, unless he really likes you._

"Hn." A knock on the door and Uno quickly kicked her corset underneath the armoire and grabbed her robe. She tied it as she went to the door.

"Uno—you about to go to bed?" Charline asked as she entered. Uno dropped the robe and Charline gasped. "You're a siren!"

"Yeah too bad it didn't work though," Uno snorted.

"On Erik?"

Uno heaved a sigh. "Oh well, at least he agreed to paint me a portrait." Charline smiled and watched her friend undress out of the black garnets. "At least I can have that for my mansion."

"Mansion?"

"My future home."

Charline smiled brightly. "You plan to live in a mansion? That is truly amazing." Uno paused and stared up at her friend. "Well… it is."

She shook her head. "Not that life… another life."

"If that is ever possible."

"It is." Uno reached for her nightly corset and began lacing that up.

"How?"

"I'll tell you when you get older." Charline slapped her arm and both girls began giggling.

"Oh well, I came to tell you goodnight and that I believe you were fabulous. I knew having your long hair tumble down for the show would make everyone enchanted."

Uno smiled. "Thanks for the idea."

Charline winked. "Just means that now you must repay me with the story of your life."

"Yeah I know," Uno grumbled. "That's why I dread it so much."

Charline giggled. "Good night, Uno." She gave her a hug then left.

"You _were_ wonderful," Turok said from the bed. Uno stared at him with a frown. He was laying on the bed with his arms tucked beneath the back of his head. "But you failed at seducing Erik."

"No I'm pretty sure I got him good." She stepped up to the bed. "Now get out so I can go to sleep and get some rest."

"On one condition." She frowned. "I've been bored lately without having a war to guide you through and I want some fun."

Uno turned her eyes away. "Why does this not surprise me?" She scoffed out.

Turok pouted. "I'm bored, Uno! Living in your head is harder than watching reruns of 'I Love Lucy'."

She cocked a brow. "'I Love Lucy'?"

"It's a very old T.V. show," he paused. "Well… old in _your_ times, futuristic in _these_ times."

"Whatever."

"I won't let you go to sleep until you agree to let me have some fun." He sat up and crossed his arms together. "So say it and you get to rest."

"Fine—just as long as you don't wreck my image here."

"I worked too hard to get you where you are now. But…" A slow grin crept onto Turok's face. "I _do_ have ideas."

-

As soon as he left the diva's room Erik leaned against the dungeon walls and wrapped his arms around his body. He doubled over as if he were in pain and shivered endlessly.

"Oh my goodness," he gasped. "Uno…"

He closed his eyes and replayed the scene where she unlaced her corset up to when she removed her hair from covering her breasts before his very eyes. He watched it happen all over again. Saw her body in it's fullest. Felt the blood rush to his groin. And found it getting hotter.

"You vixen," he seethed out. "You have no idea," he pushed back to a standing position despite the fact his pants were suddenly too tight, "how close I was to grabbing you, just now."

He cleared his throat and pushed off the wall. As Erik returned to his lair the image continued to repeat in his mind, giving him the same sensation as it did the first time. And now that he was alone in his lair he was confined to handle this situation alone.

Part of that idea agrivated him and tempted him to return to her room and take her offer.

But he would _not_ touch her body. She deserved much better.

"I will take your offer, Mademoiselle Maxwell." He grumbled. "But I will _not_ lay a single hair on that delicate skin of yours."

**I hope no minors read this. Tell me what you think. Chapter 35 will be rather fun to right... so expect a lot of humor and a lot of gore. Oh, and if you think Marcella's death, or Priscella's death will be bad... just wait until the next chapter when Turok has his fun.**


	35. Pleasing the Devil

**_PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTE!  
_** **Alright everyone, I hope you don't have a weak stomach because if you do, you probably will not be able to handle this chapter. This chapter is entirely about Zero, who, in my world, I have named Turok. Zero is a computer program, which in my world, have turned into a sort of android/cyborg type thing. It does _NOT_ explain who he is but rather, is a chapter entirely for him to have fun within. This chapter is also dedicated to one of my few remaining (of what's left, that is) rabid fans (yes, I believe she even has rabies, too!), who's name is _Many Voices In My Head_. Now you all know her name and you can send her countless emails insisting she be put away in a mental asylum; I'll even let her bunk with me!**

**But if you don't have a weak stomach you won't be able to read this. You've been warned, however, so don't come crying to me about how sick it may sound or how twisted of a mind I have. This rating is 'M', meaning MATURE; if you can't handle gore than you're obviously in the wrong story. You all should have already known, though, that Uno is quite sick-minded. But now you see just HOW badly the people in her life are, as well.**

**38 pages. Enjoy the bloody fun! (smiles)  
**

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Five - 

"Turok, what are you doing with that rifle?" Doctor Aztec stepped up to the experiment and ripped the gun away from his arms. "You are not authorited to carry weapons when you are _already_ a weapon."

Turok bit his lower lip. "So sorry, Sir. I won't do it again!"

Aztec nodded. "Better not. Now get back down to the Music Wing and leave this Technology Department alone!"

Turok wasted no time following the orders. He left as quickly as he could. Aztec stared after him and groaned.

"That creature is just a war hero waiting to be released," he grumbled. "Either that, a wold massacre, with his unhealthy way of teasing."

"Aztec!" Aztec turned to the startled gasp of his brother.

"Pinn?"

"It was _you_!" Pinn ripped the gun out of Aztec's hands. Aztec began figuring that the rifle was suddenly a famous piece of machinery, wanted by all. "Of all the people—_you_ slaughtered the soldiers in the Medieval Wing?"

Now Aztec was clearly taken aback. "What?"

"Their bodies are hanging from the ceiling rafters in the hallways leading to the Medieval Wing, torn to shreds and dripping with blood because of _this_ gun!" He held the rifle up. "They've been shot so badly that you can clearly see holes straight through their bodies and the walls and ceiling are, quite literally, _painted_ with their blood!"

Aztec growled. "Turok."

"Why are you blaming him? You're holding the evidence of it all!"

Aztec hung his head. "That damn creature did it again."

"Huh?"

"Set me up, again." Pinn suddenly started to laugh. "What?"

"It's about damn time Turok made his games noticeable," Pinn explained. "Morris has a habit of leaving the Radiation Explosive Setting turned on while I leave him in charge of taking quick pit-stops."

Aztec frowned. "Morris sabotages your work?"

"Every chance he gets."

A smirk formed on Aztec's lips. "Apparently both of the brothers enjoy playing tricks on each other. Perhaps we should get them back."

"How about we make them clean up after themselves or we cancle their upgrades?"

"Sounds fair."

-

Uno streteched the following morning and yawned.

"Rise and shine, said Turok from across the room where he was laying on the setee. Uno gasped and clutched the covers to her chest. Turok snorted.

"Please Uno, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Quit scaring me," she snapped. "And leave me alone for a change, damn it!"

"Can't." He stood up and stepped up to the bed. "You promised me last night that you'd let me have some fun." She narrowed her eyes and stared up at him. "So you have no choice but to ablige because you're like your father, Duo; you don't turn your back on your words."

She groaned and hung her head. "Can I at least get up and prep myself for the morning?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brows. "No—_now_!"

Uno snapped her head up at him and tore out of bed. "I'll have you know," she paused to fling the covers back on the bed, "that you are in no position to run me, _Zero_!" He growled. Uno balled her fists and stood her ground, still dressed in the same undergarments she wore last night for bed. "You are, after all, afraid of doing anything to hurt me that Morris will have a fit for."

Turok gasped and she smirked. "You are a downright, selfish bitch," he seethed. "You're using him against me!"

She crossed her arms. "Damn straight I am."

His eyes narrowed. "Fine." He turned his back to her. "Prep for the morning—but don't take your pretty time because I plan to take over anyways."

It was an hour later when she returned to the room from bathing and conditioning to her hair and body. Turok was sitting on the chair in front of her desk patiently, tapping his foot on the floor, while he watched her enter. She was whistling and still braiding her hair when she noticed his agitated expression.

"Jeeze Turok—don't look so glumy."

He growled low then snapped aloud. "Hurry up already!" She smiled and stuffed her night garments into the dresser as she continued singing her song. Turok balled his fists and grit his teeth. He turned and stared at the wall, waiting for her to admit him.

"I'm ready." She said, stepping around the side of the room and up to him.

"Finally!" He jumped to his feet and saw her staring up at him with an innocent gaze. He paused. "Uno…"

Her eyes smiled with her mouth. "Will you possess me, Turok?"

"I uh…"

"How will it work? You don't want to get me in trouble."

He stilled momentarily. "I… you are going to be partially asleep while I am in control." She nodded in understanding. "You will be able to think, if you want to, and we will communicate that way."

"As you do to me."

He nodded. "But you will not be able to control your body whatsoever."

A brow raised. "Sounds kinda' perverted, if you ask me."

He smirked. "Which is why I'm not."

"Hehe."

He nodded with determination and raised his hands to rest upon her shoulders. "Look into my eyes, Uno." She did as told. "Now just relax."

"Alright."

Uno felt herself growing weak. Her eyelids got heavy and began loweing. Her limbs became numb, her legs shaky, and she felt like she were about to fall. A tingly sensation filled her while her muscles failed to work to her will. Turok's face blurred from her vision and melted in with the background.

The last thing she recalled was Turok's soft whisper telling her, "Here we go."

Turok, now in Uno's body, stepped up to the mirror and pulled the drapery back. He tucked it behind the edge of the mirrorframe and stood back to stare at his reflection. It was a shock to see a reflection when he looked into a mirror, though it was the same as when he looked through Uno's eyes. Only he wasn't used to seeing _her_ when _he_ looked into one.

"Man I have to get used to this," he muttered out with a voice of Uno's. His brows furrowed, reflecting her finely shaped brown ones doing the same. He shook his head slowly to watch her's doing the same.

"Man oh man," he mouthed. The lips in the figure before him mouthed the same thing. "This is freaky. I should be able to morph into my own body if I'm in control of her."

He looked at the dress she had put on and stared long and hard at the certain elements that would make her a woman. The dress was black but there were tiny white flowers imprinted in the background, looking gray instead. The chest billowed out as the imprint of constrained breasts beneath pushed against the fabric of the dress. The hem formed to the hips, showing signs of possible seduction if used correctly.

He returnd to the face and stared into the violet eyes. She had so much of his brother in her, he realized. Uno's facial structure, though much like Duo's with her violet eyes, had the stern jawbone of Morris. Although Uno had inherited the long brown braid from her father, Duo, she had plenty of shades of red to signal that she was half of her mother, Morris' dauther, Sarah.

The mirror slid to the side and Turok gasped. He took a step back as he watched Erik open the mirror and step inside. Watching Erik through Uno's eyes was one thing; seeing it for himself was an entirely new sight. The man was basically a stick figure with a cape and a white mask on half his face.

"Uno," Erik said with an incline of his head. "I startled you, I am sorry."

"Oh I um," Turok stammered out with Uno's voice.

_Oh god,_ came Uno's thoughts in the back of his mind. A slight smirk came to his face, appearing in front of Erik's line of sight.

"No—I was just wondering if I messed up while braiding my hair," he lied.

Erik smirked. "You look as wonderful as usual."

Turok bit his lower lip and hung his head as he made a blush come to his cheeks. "You're kind."

_Turok stop!_

"I should hope so," he replied. "What you said last night before the show was truly remarkable."

"Oh," Turok glanced away sheepishly, "that." Erik held Uno's chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned the delicate face to stare back at him. "Erik?"

"I was very moved by what you said and even more moved by the show you put on." Turok allowed a smile to show.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"But last night…"

"I wanted you," Turok explained.

_No!_

Erik frowned and Turok turned away to shield his eyes. "I felt that if I showed you how much I liked you, words wouldn't _have_ to be said."

_Stop it!_

"Uno," he breathed out.

"I really like you." Turok stared up into the green eyes. "A whole lot."

"Uno."

"So much that… I think…" Her eyes shut.

_Don't you _dare_! Turok!_

Turok was startled when he felt another pair of lips on his. His eyes snapped open to find Erik had leaned in to kiss him. Well not _him_; Erik kissed Uno not knowing Turok was possessing her at that moment.

_Oh I can have a lot of fun with this,_ Turok thought to himself.

_Stop!_ Uno cried out. _Please!_

_It's time you stop running from the past, Uno._

_Damn it, Turok! I do this for a reason!_

Her lips opened, allowing access to Erik's kiss, urging for it to deepen. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she felt his tongue sliding into her mouth. She elicited a soft moan from the back of her throat and pulled Erik closer to her body. A groan emerged from his throat then suddenly he pushed away from her.

Turok frowned, arching Uno's beautifully shaped brows. "Erik?"

"No," he rasped. "I _can't_ touch you, Uno. You are too frail a creature to be destroyed by my tou—" He froze when the delicate hand had moved his boney hand from her shoulders to her breasts. His lower lip quivered again as he stared at where his hands were forced to remain.

"Uno," he gasped. "What are you—"

One of the delicate hands removed from covering his hand and stilled his lips. "No," Turok said through Uno's voice. "Don't speak, Erik. Just act." He frowned. "I… I've always been scared to tell you this but…" the hand pulled away from his lips. "But… I think I'm falling—"

_Don't say it!_

"For you."

For the moment time froze. Erik's eyes were wide, glazed, and still. His breathing had stopped as did his heartbeat. The blood in his veins froze solid. Turok, through Uno, released Erik's hands and reached up to remove the mask. When the mask fell to the floor, he made her kiss Erik's deformity. Suddenly, feeling returned to Erik's body and he wrapped his arms around the woman before him tightly and dipped her instantly, kissing her at the same time.

Turok closed her eyes as he allowed Erik to take the leading role. It was time somebody besides Uno or himself controlled the acts.

_Please Turok, don't let this happen,_ sounded Uno's sulking voice in the back of his mind.

When Erik pulled back after the kiss, still in the dipping form, Turok smiled softly. He reached up to stroke Erik's deformed face and tenderly said, "Take me, Erik."

Erik frowned. "Uno, but I—"

"Deformity of the heart I call, the worst deformity of all. For what is form, or what is face, but the soul's index, or its case?" Tears filled his eyes and Uno stroked the first falling one off Erik's face. "A man named Colton had wise words of wisdom."

"I have loved you since the first moment I saw you at the royal ball," Erik breathed out, his voice scratchy with barely contained happiness and love combined. "Because you looked every inch an angel although I knew that you were as hard as the devils."

"Please," Uno whispered, "make love to me."

"And I will not stop loving you until the day I die."

It was _hours_ later when Turok, still disguised as Uno, woke up. The bed in the room was lonely save for him but still warm from where Erik had recently laid. He turned to glance at the indention of the pillow where the deformed face rested and smiled.

"Finally," he said with Uno's voice again. "Erik finally knows how you feel about him."

_I will _never_ forgive you for this_, she scorned.

The shoulders shrugged. "It had to be done."

_No it didn't!_

"Although I must admit that it felt weird having sex with another guy while in a girl's body," Turok muttered. He shuddered and shook his head. "But if I keep thinking about that I'll throw up."

_Get out of my body right now, damn it!_

He stood up and stretched. "Don't worry, Uno. I won't do anything else in your body."

_Good._

"I'm going to try and change your molecular structure into mine."

_What!_

He stepped up to the mirror and smirked when he saw Uno's naked body in the mirror. "You _do_ have a _fine_ figure."

_Pervert. What are you going to do?_

He took in a deep breath and furrowed her brows as he stared hard into the mirror. "First things first," he muttered. "I need to change and then find some clothes."

He stared into Uno's violet eyes and foces hard. The eyes sparkled and glinted right back at him. His jaw locked as he strained, his eyes narrowing into slits as he forced her feminine body to obey his will and change. The purple eyes darkened until they were as black as charcoal; his pupil looked as if it had taken over his entire eyeball.

Turok grinned. "Brilliant!" Uno's body was normal but her eyes had become as black as night. "Now for the ears."

He focused on the ears and strained. Against their will the molecular structure changed and right before his very eyes Uno's eyes grew up and out. Turok laughed with glea.

"Awesome!" He turned his head to the side to see Uno's body with the black eyes now holding elf ears inplace of human ears. "Though not as long as Morris but still not _normal_ human ears." He grinned. "Now for the rest of it."

He glanced at the body and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure it could be done but he assumed it was possible if the eyes and ears were able to change.

_Just don't get stuck with half our bodies mixed up,_ Uno said in the background, disrupting his concentration momentatily. _I'd like to keep a human-looking body that everyone had already seen._

Turok frowned and started over. He focused purely on the body in the mirror and concentrated on making its molecular structure change. He clenched his fists and strained. Every muscle in his body tensed and ached as violent shivers pulsed through him. The knuckles turned white; the palms grew red as fingernails dug into the skin. The head slowly began to shake as he clenched every muscle every inch of the body.

The long braid began shrinking as the color fully turned to brown. The nose sunk in slightly. The lips thinned out. The jaw lowered just a little as his face grew narrower. The tone of the skin lightened just a little. The chest flattened out and muscles took their places. The scars on the body disappeared. He watched as Uno's gender disappeared and watched as his own grew in place. Several inches extended his legs and body as the muscles that recently replaced her breasts enlarged in strength.

In less than five minutes Turok watched as the body he inhabitated changed from that of a woman's to his.

"This is outrageous," he murmured.

_Oh my God... you're not too bad looking either,_ Uno said in amazement.

He grinned at his reflection. His strong lean build, standing full height of six-foot-three and as Turok glanced down at himself, and extra eight inches of meat to stand on top of that. A wicked smile crossed his face as he returned to stare at his reflection. His raggedy brown hair topped his head and flared around in clumps, just below his long ears. The nape of his neck was bare, as if he had been shaved for a crew cut and left the top part alone.

He turned to the side and finished inspecting himself. "This is _too_ perfect." He smiled brightly, hearing _his_ voice instead of Uno's.

_You're still naked._

Turok's brows furrowed. "I can see why you tell me to stop talking to you—that voice get's annoying."

_Hey!_

"Goodnight Uno!" A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes as a dark smile crossed his face.

_Turok no!_

Silence came next.

After putting Uno to sleep he muttered to himself, "Much better."

Turok stepped up to the armoire and pulled out the drawer Uno had stored her old war clothes. He lifted them up and stared at them. Hoping they would fit, he slipped them on and buckled everything up. He stared in the mirror after he laced the combat boots up and tucked the pants into them.

"Excellent." He turned around a few times and checked every pocket. "Very good." Turok nodded in approval then lowered the drape. He turned around to stare at the bedroom door and a dark smile tilted on his face as a smirk. "Now to have some fun."

-

"Excuse me," Turok muttered as he bumped into somebody backstage. The person paused and turned to watch him make his way through the crowd.

"Somebody please go give this to Uno," a dancer called out. "I forgot to give it to her last night."

Turok paused and glanced at the redhead. "What is it?"

The redhead glanced at the small box in her hand and shrugged. "Its heavy but he didn't say."

"I'll take it to her."

"Who are you?"

"I… I'm Turok," he replied. "Her brother."

Brows rose. "Uno never said she had a brother."

"Well she never said anything about herself, either."

"How would you know?" The girl got suspicious of him. "I haven't ever seen you around here so you probably just arrived."

He nodded. "Uno's my sister—she hasn't changed one bit." He received the small box and tucked it into one of the many pockets on his pants.

"You're Uno's brother?" A dark haired girl pranced up to him. "But you're American."

"Yeah—so?"

"I thought she was royality." Now both girls stared at him, waiting for a slipup.

"She is, believe me. She almost had me killed," he explained.

"What did you do?"

"… I annoyed her."

Their mouths dropped as if they realized they had annoyed her as well. The dark haired girl shook her head suddenly.

"No seriously, what did you do to make her come close to ordering your death?"

He frowned. "Just what I said—I annoyed her." He cleared his throat. "Gotta' go."

He rushed away from them as quickly as possible. Turok rounded a corner and came to a halt when he saw Madam Giry heading his direction about a few hundred yards away. He inhaled a deep breath and stiffened. He couldn't be seen by her. Out of all the people of the building that woman knew every thought Uno had before she could think it.

He turned to retreat and came face to face with bright, light blue eyes and brown hair pulled back into a pony-tail. The eyes blinked twice before Turok realized he was standing less than four inches in her face. From the corner of his eye he saw Madam Giry pass them up and held his breath in fear the woman would spot him.

She didn't.

"Hi?" The girl said in wonder.

Turok shook himself out of his train of thought and cleared his mind. He realized who he had bumped into and, for a first, noticed things about her he didn't see through Uno's eyes.

She looked almost identical to Theresa—save for the stronger bone structure of her face and posture.

"Charline," he muttered.

Her eyes widened just a little and she backed up a step. "Um… and you are?"

"Turok."

She nodded slowly. "Okay?"

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Sorry—I'm somewhat lost around here right now, so much is happening at once." She stood in silence. "I'm Uno's… brother."

"Oh." Her brows furrowed. "I didn't know Uno had a brother."

He smirked. "Apparently she hasn't told anyone about me, then."

"No um…" Charline turned away for a moment. "She doesn't say a thing about her life."

He nodded as he listened to her. "Yeah she runs from her life. You basically got to slap it out of her."

Charline smirked at him. "I'll keep that in mind."

Turok laughed. "It's a good thing she can't hear you say that."

Charline shrugged casually. "She's not here at the moment."

_Ain't that for sure?_ Turok said to himself, thankful he had put Uno to sleep before leaving the room.

"So you're from America?"

"Yep—from Flordia."

"Florida!" Her eyes brightened. "I've never been there but I heard the beaches are beautiful."

Turok extended his arm. "They are." She smiled and placed her hand on his arm and walked with him. "The ocean is so blue you can't see where the horizon ends and the sky begins. The sun glimmers off the waves of the water so much that it reflects back a thousand sparkles a second. And if you look closely, you can see beautiful things beneath the surface."

"Wow." Charline swayed a little bit as she invisioned the picture Turok painted in her mind. She paused and glanced at him. "Um… Turok?"

He turned to her. "Yes?"

"What's the horizon?"

He frowned and stopped to stare down at her. _Please tell me they believe the world is round._

"That word doesn't sound familiar," she added in. "But I'm from New York so perhaps it's a word people from Florida use."

"Um… you believe the world is round, right?"

She laughed. "Of course! Man has proven it, I have heard."

He nodded slowly. "The horizon is the point where you see the edge of the land curve along the sides of the planet." She frowned. "I'll show it to you later this afternoon."

"You will show me?" She reddened a little and he smiled.

"Yes," he chuckled.

"That will be kind of you." They continued walking and she realized something else. "Turok?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"…I was hoping you could show me to the cafeteria," he said dryly. "I'm hungry."

Charline giggled. "We're going the wrong direction."

"Oh." They turned around to return from where they came. "I knew that."

When they sat down with a midday meal Charline stared into her cup of tea as Turok picked up one of his four pastries. He paused before taking a bite and frowned at her.

"Something wrong?"

"Ever since Marcella had put cutglass into my drink I've been scared to drink."

He frowned. "Marcella disappeared, hadn't she?"

Charline glanced up at him from the tops of her eyes. "Uno told you?" His determined gaze told her what she needed to know. "What _all_ did she tell you?"

"… More than you've been told."

Charline frowned. "She told you she killed Marcella and Priscella?" She whispered.

Turok stayed quiet and bit into his pastry. Charline looked down at her single pastry and nodded in agreement. Turok didn't have to say anything and Charline knew what was going on in his head; Uno hadn't told her but she assumed it and Turok's response had confirmed it for her, too.

Uno had killed many people and Turok knew about each one.

"Did she tell you about," Charline paused to lower her voice and lean over the table.

Turok frowned and swallowed his bite before pulling back. Something about Charline leaning closer sent an odd feeling into the pit of his stomach and he didn't know how to react to it.

Which was a first.

"Erik?"

Erik, the phantom, the man Turok had made Uno have sex with this morning. Oh yes, he knew _all_ about Erik. Turok grinned and nodded his head.

"She told you about him?"

He lifted the pastry to his lips. "More than you know."

She gasped. "I want to know now!"

He laughed and shook his head. "Not without her consent. I'd get hurt then." He took a bite and watched her relax in the chair and sulk.

"Well I'm amazed she's mentioned me to you." Charline lifted her pastry and bit into it.

Turok raised a brow and swallowed his bite. "Why shouldn't she? You're basically her only friend."

"Hello." Turok turned to see a blonde sit down besides him at the round table. "You're new. I didn't know there were auditions for the next act."

"Oh um…" Charline glanced between Turok and the blonde. "Meg this is Turok… Uno's brother."

"Oh!" She smiled and extended her hand. "I didn't know Uno had a brother. I'm Meg Giry."

Turok extended his hand but froze when he heard the last name. Why is it, when he made the change of bodies, he forgot half of what happened in Uno's shoes? He feared the name 'Giry' simply because of the ballet mistress.

Meg shook his hand. "She doesn't speak much of her family."

"Where is she, anyways?" Charline frowned and raised her cup to her lips. "I haven't seen her today and her room was empty."

"She had to run errans," Turok rushed out before biting into his second pastry.

"Like what?" Meg noticed he had three extra pastries and her eyes widened. "You eat so much you won't be able to eat dinner!"

Turok frowned and glanced down at his plate. He forced his bite down unchewed. "No," he retorted. "I'm almost always hungry."

Charline lowered the cup. "Meg—are we practicing today?"

Meg nodded. "Maman did not appreciate the ballet very much last night. She said there were spots where we could fix."

"I thought the show was exquisite enough," Turok cut in. Both girls turned to him. "You both danced quite beautifully."

Meg smiled and Charline blushed. "I'm not a prima ballerina like Meg, though." Charline said timidly. Turok shrugged casually and blew it off.

"So? I still think you were wonderful." He took another bite."

"So Turok—why is your name Turok?"

"Why is my sister's name Uno?"

"Well it's an odd name." Meg frowned.

"And Uno isn't?"

"But your father's name is Duo so I assumed she was named after him," Meg explained. "But what about you?"

He thought for a moment. "Our mother."

Now it was Charline's turn to ask the questions. "What was her name?"

"Sarah," Turok explained. "But she named me after her uncle."

"Oh wow." Meg smiled brightly. "So you were named after your Great Uncle?"

"Great Uncle Turok," Charline said in aw. "It sounds fair enough." Meg nodded in agreement. Turok remained quiet and took a bigger bite than he knew his mouth could handle.

If only they knew the truth.

After a few more minutes Meg stood. "I must get to the stage before manam throws a fit. Don't forget Charline, we have rehearsals today."

Charline nodded, too into the bite she was currently chewing. She waved her hand in Meg's direction.

"It was nice to meet you, Turok." Meg smiled and fled from the table just as she came.

Turok stared after and and watched her disappear through the café doors. "She's nice."

"Mmhm." Charline swallowed. "She's friends with Uno before I arrived but I'm not flaky like her so Uno stuck with me more."

"Also because you remind her of an old friend," Turok muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." He bit into his last pastry quickly.

"Well I must get to the stage as well." Charline stood up and extended her hand. "I'm glad I met you, Turok. Perhaps I will see you later?"

He forced his bite down half chewed and smiled up at her. Turok stood up and placed his hand beneath hers then bent down to kiss it. Her cheeks reddened all the way.

"Have a wonderful day," he said through a smirk. When he caught her eye she was staring at him, her lips parted in silence.

"I-I plan to," she choked out. Clearing her throat and trying again, she said firmly. "I know I will."

They smiled at each other before she left and Turok returned to his meal.

When he finished his meal he stood up and went to throw away his trash when he overheard the staff talking amongst themselves. A smirked reached his lips. Without his long ears he wouldn't be able to hear whispering a mile away.

"That wretched woman," cursed one woman. "She _demands_ wine be brought to her!"

"She should be kicked out on her behine," said the other. "If I were the manager I would take to haste in doing it, either."

"_Le Carlotta can't be thrown out_—pauh!" Both woman snorted and continued cleaning. "That woman should get her _own_ bloody wine!"

_Bloody wine_, Turok thought sinisterly. _Yes… she should._

"I'll deliver it, if you would much rather stay here instead." Both women turned to see Turok standing on the other side of the counter.

One woman frowned. "You have weird ears on," she retorted with distaste.

The other woman's brows furrowed. "Is that the look for the next play?"

"… I'm sorry?" He frowned. "I was a stolen lab creature," he said. "My parents saved me from a fate worse than this but the scientists still wrecked me. So I came here for work with the stage."

"Oh you _poor_ boy!" The woman gasped and covered her mouth. "Such shame!"

The other one snorted. "Where are you from? I thought it was only England that did such a thing."

"Oh yes—terrible things come from The New World," he lied. "So bad that I was one of the few survivors."

"Oh my goodness!"

He smirked. It wasn't a _total_ lie, after all. Where he came from _was_ considered practically Florida and the scientists _did_ kidnap an orphan to experiment on.

"Here." She handed him the glass. "Fill it up with this red wine and deliver it to Carlotta's room."

He nodded. "Simple enough."

"Thank you. Now we can return to cleaning duties." Both women disappeared and Turok stared into the glass with a wicked thought in his mind.

He left the café and spotted a narrow passage to his right. Frowning he took it and came into an opening that was clearly behind the back of the stage, where many of the stage crew had snuck away to drink their liquor. He kicked away a bottle of liquor and stepped up to a sleeping crewman.

"Wha—what was that?" The man stammered out. Turok kneeled down to him and stared into his glazed eyes.

"You're drunk."

"Nah I'm not," the man spat back. Turok's nose wrinkled as he sniffed the liquor on the man's breath.

"I sniffed you out from the café," he said. "I knew somebody back here was drinking."

"I'm fine." The man pushed Turok away and tried to stand. He grappled for Turok's body and strained to stand up. "See? I'm standing."

"Uh huh."

"Now I think I'm going to go fuck one of 'em rats."

Turok cocked a brow. "Which one?"

"The American," he slurred out. "She's always walking around here without anyone else. It'll be a sinch to grab her and take her."

"Charline?"

"_That's_ her!" The man chuckled. "That body of hers looks fresh. I'd try for her friend but I may get my ass killed." He laughed again. "But I'd sure love to try it, anyways. She has enough hair I can wrap around my hand and pull."

"Pull?"

"Hah! Force her to her knees and take me in her mouth."

Turok narrowed his eyes. "Now how can you do that?"

"It's easy!" The man spread his arms. "We do it all the time to them rats! It's all they's good for!"

"No I mean _how_ can you do that?" He grabbed the man's groin tightly. The man gasped. "If you don't have anything to fuck _with_?"

The man cringed in pain. "Stop that! Yer hurting me!"

Turok twisted his wrist and snapped he bone. The man screamed but Turok jabbed his forehead into the man's nose, shoving the cartilage up into the man's skull. Blood seeped out of his nose and after Turok released his grasp, he fell to the floor.

He stared down at the body of the dead crewman. "See to it that you don't lay a hand on anyone while I'm here," Turok threatened darkly. "_Especially_ Charline."

_Uno can handle herself._

He stared at the blood oozing out of the man's nostrils and thought of something. The eyes were wide opened and staring up at the ceiling. A sinful thought entered Turok's brain and he smiled.

"You'll still going to be of us to this theater," he muttered darkly. "Though not in the way you expect it."

Turok kneeled down and placed the glass on the floor to the side. He picked up one of the man's limp wrists and held it in both hands. Rotating it in his grasp just right, Turok snapped the limb and tore at the skin without any effort. The hand tore away from the rest of the arm just as if he were shredding a leaf in his fingertips. All too suddenly, blood drained out of the opens veins and Turok had to work fast at putting the hand down and aiming the dripping blood into the glass. Using his fingertips he pinched the ends of all the nerves to cut off the flow and cease the leakage momentarily.

He picked up the glass and stood up. The man looked dead to him but if anyone were to come in here they would assume he was resting; albeit missing a hand.

He left the hall and headed for La Carlottas. When he found it he tapped on the door then leaned on the wall besides it. The door opened and he extended his arm out, handing the glass to the servant, sure to keep himself hidden. People passed by him in the halls but no one paid any attention so he knew he was safe. When the glass was taken from him and the door shut he smirked and retreated back the way he came.

_Good, _he smirked. The dead body was still there.

Turok kneeled down and ripped open the man's shirt without another second to waste. He had to work fast if he wanted his plan to come through. He kept the clothing intact, although ripped up, and stared at the white flesh beneath.

_God these people need to learn to get some sun on their skins._

First he checked the man's pockets for anything he could find and pocketed it. Then he trailed a single fingernail down the center of the man's chest to his naval, slicing through the skin like a sharpened razor-edges knife. The blood was still thin but he noticed it was starting to coagulate; he had to work fast.

He pulled the edges of skin apart and wrinkled his nose as the scent reached his nostrils. God this man stank worse than any of the dead bodies he mutilated in his life. He noticed his cut wasn't long enough, as the slice began tearing apart extra lengths on both ends. He bit his lower lip and continued pacing his actions; he needed to go as fast as he could but still keep everything clean.

_There it is!_ He spotted the liver and smiled to himself. While using one hand to keep the skinfolds apart, he used his other to scoop up the liver and pull it out of body.

_Nice entrails,_ he commented. _Too bad they're only half-ass._

It paid off to be an experiment, Turok decided. He had less to worry about if his insides ever became _out_side. For example: his liver, along with all his other organs, were coated with a durable substance which would allow him to remain alive even if he got sliced up.

The only way he could die would be a computer drainage effect or a power shortage, which would cause a system malfunction and give him a power outage.

He laid the liver down on the ground and peered into the carcass again, looking for something else to pick at. He poked at the stomach and watched as it jiggled according to where he touched it. He chuckled, seeing how fill of alcohol it was.

Turok reached for one of the empty bottles and scooped out the stomach muscle. He suspended it over the open mouth of the bottle and, using the thumb of his other hand, poked a hole in the stomach pouch. Alcohol, stomach acid, and everything else this man had recently consumed drained into the bottle like a hose without a nozzlehead.

When the bottled filled he sat it down and placed the stomach pouchs on the ground besides the liver. He spotted the spleen and carefully removed it, making sure not to puncture it and have a huge mess; that, of all things, still held regular blood, though thinned down from all the liquor the man consumed first. The he found the heart and removed that as well.

_Now it's time for fun._

He placed the pile of liver on top of the corpse and stood up with the body in his arms, carefully keeping it upright to not spill anything. He headed down the hallway, careful to avoid contact with anyone and remain hidden. When he found the backstage was empty he decided what to do and he had to do it fast.

If he was caught it would be the end of his day of fun _and_ Uno's life would come to an immediate end.

_Well, she'd be thrown in prison and since she'll never die, she'll stay there forever, scaring everyone for not aging one bit, either._

He worked quickly and the moment he was done, he fled as fast as possible. Turok returned to the area he stored everything else in and picked it up the bottle. He continued heading down the hallway opposite of the way he came and found it spilled out into one of the other hallways where some of the crew were relaxing.

"Who are you?" The man had a bent nose and his sandybrown hair was oily.

Turok came out of the shadows and glanced around. "Turok. I'm new here."

"I've noticed," his brown eyes flickered. "Crew?" Turok nodded. The man ripped the bottle out of his hands.

"Hey!"

"You're not supposed to drink."

"Hey—give that back!"

The man pushed Turok away from him. "I'm the head of the crew and I say what goes around here, got it?"

"Yeah but—"

"They need an extra hand with moving one of the props so get out there and help." He turned his back to Turok and raised the bottle to his lips. "Before I have you fired so suddenly."

Turok narrowed his eyes. "If you drink that you'll die."

The man chuckled. "Yeah, right." He opened his lips and took in some of the liquid.

"No!" Turok reached out as if to grab the bottle but instead of pulling it away, he grabbed the mans head and held the bottle there, forcing the liquid to go into his throat. His eyes narrowed as the many's eyes widened. Hands flailed around and grabbed at Turok but Turok overpowered him by far, his strength superior to anyone else.

"Drink," Turok demanded coldly. "And pay the price to theft and ignorance of a warning."

The man tried to muffle out a reply but faily. His eyes squeezed tightly as the burning of his tongue started to enhance; he blocked the liquid from entering his mouth by plugging the bottle up with his tongue but now his tongue was starting to burn from the stomach acid.

"I gave you warning and you didn't obey," Turok said darkly. "So now you must pay the price and suffer." He jerked the bottle and forced it into the man's mouth more. "Now _drink_!"

The man allowed the liquid to go into his mouth and then he realized that it wasn't any sort of alcohol that he tasted but instead, something far worse.

"You're drinking the stomach contents of some crewman I just killed," Turok explained. "He was drunk and talked about raping people I knew. I didn't appreciate that so I kill him and drained the alcohol, stomach acid, and whatever else he may have consumed out of his stomach pouch and into this bottle. I just _knew_ somebody would try to steal it so after one little warning I let you take it."

The man tried to muffle a response again but he didn't do that well of a job this time. Turok raised his chin and dipped the guy backwards as he forced the contents of the bottle down his enemy's throat. As the man drank he began shaking violently; the stomach acid began burning away everything it touched in his mouth down through his throat and into _his_ own stomach, where it fought against another chemical much the same.

He died and after releasing the bottle, Turok dropped the body and watched as it spasmed beneath him.

He grinned. "Make that your lesson." A clock somewhere chimed and he glanced around to find the source of the sound. He cursed, noticing he had one hour left. Again, he had to work hard.

-

The staff was pushing by him as they rushed to finish their chores before the rehearsals ended. Turok, a bag in his arms, stood to the side and waited until everyone passed by him before continuing. The last thing he needed was to cause whatever he had stored in the bag to get squashed and ruined. He finally reached the cafeteria and found the staff cooking dinner.

"Oh!" One of the women spotted him and gasped. "I heard La Carlotta loves the new wine you delivered. Which was it?"

He frowned. "Um… a concoction—she _liked_ it?"

"Said it was a bit thick," the other one scoffed it. "But I've never seen her so enthralled with wine before. Now she demands it, constantly asking us for more."

He pulled back, feeling a little sick to his stomach. "Um… I call it a 'Bloody Gary'."

"Bloody Gary?" Both women turned to stare at each other for a moment. "Like Bloody Mary?"

"Sorta—I was wondering if you had any left over pastries from this morning and from lunch?"

One woman snorted and pointed to the wall behind her. "Only a few remain." She turned with the other one and left. "Help yourself. We'll be back shortly when dinner is ready to prepare."

Turok placed the bag on the counter and hopped over to the other side. He watched and waited until he was alone then quickly removed the lid from the pots and sniffled the scents. He pulled back in disgust.

"It smells like shit," he whispered.

He reached for the bag and carefully dumped the contents into the pot, mixing what he had taken out of both the deceased crewmen's bodies. He picked up the spoon and mixed it around, used the edges of the spoon to cut the pieces of muscle into smaller parts to fit in with the chopped meat, and then picked up the two spleen packages. He poked holes into them to dump the blood into the stew, ripped them to shreds, and mixed them in as well.

The he moved over to the other pot where there was beans bubbling and he picked up the bag of cockroaches he gathered earlier. He opened the bag and poured them into the beans then stirred it around before replacing the lid. He moved to the mashed potatos and lifted the bag of spiders out of the sack he brought with him into the kitchens, stirred them into the pot, and replaced the lid to that as well.

He carefully washed his hands in the washbowl, dried them on the rag nearby, grabbed his back, and refilled it with the morning's pastries.

He'd make sure he wasn't going to be there for when they served everything.

Before he left he saw a block of cheese on the shelf and grabbed it. Turok hopped over the counter and tore off parts of the cheese as he exited the café. He tossed each clump around in scattered locations of the hallways, close to where he knew mice would hide, and quickly made his way towards the halls near the dorms; he needed to stay away from what was fixing to happen but still be able to watch.

The doors burst open as a seal of ballerina's fled the stage. One by one they filtered into the nooks and every inch of the halls backstage until the lot of them looked up at the rafters…

And screamed until their voices could no longer contain a sound. The few who scream caused more to scream when they noticed what was the cause of it. Soon, everyone who was in the hall was screaming and Turok had started to wish that the late eighteen hundreds had heard of ear plugs.

If he had ear muffs those _might_ have helped to ease the suffering of a thousand high-pitched squealing mice.

Speaking of mice…

He turned and saw a few mice had come out of their hiding places in search of the cheese fumes that they had smelled. Turok then turned back to the rafters and felt pleased that his jokes paid off. The two bodies he had killed earlier were hanging by their own entrails from the rafters, their insides gaping open so everyone can see clear into their bodies. Rib cages were exposed, gleaming white with dry, encrusted blood. Their eyes were wide and their mouths gaped open as they stared down, lifelessly, at all the girls they only recently talked about raping.

"Oh my _God_!"

"I can't believe this!"

"The phantom is back!"

"I'm going to be sick!"

Turok was shoved to the side as people shoved by him in fear and in illness. He saw Charline not far off and called to her. She rushed up to him suddenly.

"Turok!"

He grabbed her elbow. "Come on, let's go get you to the dorms and change quickly."

"What _happened_?" She stared up at the rafters again and Turok saw she shivered just a little. "This is _horrible_!"

"Come on," he said softer this time. Charline allowed him to pull her away and into the dorms. A new current of screams filtered through the old screams and Charline turned her head to see a flock of ballerina's heading their way, shaking and flailing their arms all around them.

"Were's your room?" He rushed out.

"I-I live with other girls near the roof," she answered. She turned back to guide him towards the staircase. "Uno used to sleep there next to me."

_Oh that place again._

"Okay." He brought her to her room and sat down on the steps, his back to her. Charline got changed and prepped herself up.

"I don't know what happened," she muttered. "But it was horrifying. I've never seen anything like it before and my father had shown me things in New York that only Uno understood."

Turok closed his eyes and hung his head. His stomach growled; somewhere, in the sea of screaming girls, his bag was torn away from his person and he lost his snack of pastries. Now he was still hungry, ears still ringing from the scream, and he felt slightly bad for startling Charline.

"I thought you've seen dead bodies before," he murmured. He raised his head and saw her lacing up her gown.

"I have and I have seen Uno kill a few of them." She paused when she noticed his sullen gaze. "Turok, are you alright?"

He opened his mouth but closed it as he decided _not_ to tell her. She was the only friend he had—aside from Meg—and she was suddenly close to him. He could see why Uno considered her a best friend. Charline made him feel like he could confide in her.

He smiled suddenly. "Finish up so I can take you out to dinner."

She stared at him. "Dinner?"

"I saw Uno while you were in rehearsal. She said she had to be out late to repay Madam Wilma for something."

"I didn't think she could sew." Charline picked up her hairbrush.

"She can't but she has great design theory." Turok watched Charline brush her brown hair then coil it up into a bun.

"I wonder what they were screaming about as we were leaving." Turok stood up and Charline stepped up to him. "But they were probably still carrying on about the bodies."

He watched her shiver and uncontrollably wrapped his arms around her. She embraced his hug and closed her eyes. Turok rested his chin on the top of her head and stroked her back. The shivering in her body stilled a little but he knew it would return the moment they passed by more frantic dancers.

_We better get a move on._

"Come on." He pulled back and glanced down at her with a soft smile. "Let's go before the crowds get there first."

"Okay."

"Where is Meg?"

"At break she told me she was going out with Christine." Turok backed up. "I'm sure they will be too scared to eat after what happened."

"I'm sure they would. Come on." He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her to the staircase. "I'm hungry.

He took her to an expensive Italian restaurant and spoke easily to the waiter. Charline sat there, dumbfounded like she was when Uno took her out to eat, and watched. He ordered the meals for both of them then ordered red wine to be delivered. When the waiter left he turned back to Charline with a grin.

"You'll enjoy what I ordered."

"You and Uno, both, know Italian."

"Well," he shrugged, "she knows much less than what I know."

"Which is?"

"Over seven thousand languages more," he said casually. Charline's mouth dropped. "What?"

_Oh right… it's not human to even know twenty._

"Oh my—how did you learn them all?"

He bit his lower lip. "I remember everything I see and I see words when I read, so every language I come across I memorize." He wasn't helping soften her shocked stare. "Uno can't learn as fast as me, though."

"Are there seven thousand languages in the world?"

He shrugged. "Less, actually. But some of them are other forms of other languages and some are made up by cults."

_If computer languages were a cult then the future is Hell—literally._

"Cults?"

"Um—"

"I know what a cult is, Turok." She smiled. "I was just surprised to learn that you know, somehow, their languages."

He nodded. "Uno will tell you who I am eventually. I mean, who _we_ are."

"Well, if you're from Florida and she's from Texas—"

"Father is Texan and my mother had me in Florida," he explained. "Our parents separated. They are still married, but not together."

"How strange."

Their wine came and Turok took the moment to drink an entire glass while Charline merely had a sip. He stared at him as he refilled it and took a small sip.

"Turok…" She cleared her head.

"Yes?"

"Why do you have long ears?"

He frowned. He could tell her the same lie he told the staff or he could tell part of the truth.

"I was born with it." The truth _always_ worked better. "Deformed, basically." He sipped the wine.

"Oh… like lover, Erik?" He choked on his sip. "I hope he wasn't involved in todays case."

"Hmm… him." He sat the glass back down. "Yes I've heard of him. No, I'm not that badly deformed but they _do_ enhance my hearing."

She smiled at him. "I bet the screaming gave you a headache." When he rolled his eyes she laughed. "I was right. I thought you looked bad when I was dressing."

"I was trying to get over the ringing in my ears."

"Hehe."

-

Madam Giry made sure the lot of the girls were away from the halls as she watched the authorities remove the bodies from the rafters. She saw Erik from the corner of her eyes, staring down at everything, and hoped he wasn't part of this.

She knew he wasn't but she still hoped she wasn't getting ahead of herself.

"Is that all?" The man asked. Madam Giry nodded her head. "Very well. If you get any notice about another disturbance, contact me immediately."

"I will do just that," she said. "I _know_ the phantom had no part in this."

The policeman gazed up at the rafters where the bodies recently hung. "No… this doesn't seem like him. The phantom would have used catgut rope rather than their own entrails."

Madam Giry took a deep breath to sooth her uneasy stomach. "I shall contact you immediately should something else come up."

-

"This meal looks wonderful." Charline stared at the plate and smiled.

Turok picked up his utensils and smiled back. "Enjoy."

-

Madam Giry shushed the girls as they stood at the ends of the hallways, terrified of going on any further.

"What is the matter?"

"Look!" One of them pointed into the hall where mice littered the floors. "They're everywhere!"

The older woman stepped up to the first gathering of rodents and cleared them away with her cane then saw the cause of it. Somebody had scattered chees all over the place.

She raised her head to the crewman nearest her. "Fetch the policeman, again. He must be told about this."

-

"So Turok, have you and Uno grown up together?" Charline placed her utensils on the plate when she finished her meal.

Turok, still eating, lifted his glass to take a sip of wine. He replaced it and nodded. He licked the inside of his lips as the taste of red wine remained on his gumlines.

"Pretty much. We used to do almost everything together."

"She tells me she's Empress of Japan," Charline brought up. Turok paused. "Is this true?"

He stared at her. Uno _had_ to tell her the truth soon. Charline _had_ to know.

"No." Her mouth dropped slowly but Turok continued before she could say a word. "Where we come from, she is to rule more than just a single country." Turok continued eating.

He ordered more than just that one meal alone.

Charline leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. "What else?"

"Everything," he said with his mouth full. He swallowed. "Every country, every continent, the entire planet plus colonies out on the moon and in space."

"In space?" She clearified. "And on the moon?"

He nodded and finished his meal before clearing it down with a huge gulp of red wine. He downed the entire glass then refilled it and hers.

"You don't believe me because you haven't seen reason to," he said. "But if I showed you, will you?"

He stared into her eyes and saw her contemplating it.

"We'll see."

He smirked. Charline was cautious and careful of things.

He liked that.

-

"Well," the policeman sighed, "another occurrence. Did you clean it up?"

"I had Clements, our stage man," Madam Giry pointed to the man on the side, "push the cheese into the mice holes."

"So you still let the mice feed?"

She frowned. "They are rodents. If they do not eat now, they will return for food later."

He nodded. "Very well."

A scream sent both of them rushing into the cafeteria. They came to an abrupt halt when they saw the girls backing away from their table where their meals were.

"What is the matter here?" The older woman demanded.

"Look!"

She stepped up to the table and gasped. In all her years, through all the times she had to watch Erik play jokes on people when he hit that stage in his life, she had never saw him play jokes with their food so she knew he did not do this.

The potatoes had black spots mixed in—pepper. The beans had clumps of black spots—meat? The stew had lumps of fleshy-looking substances but it didn't look like the meat that was stirred with it and the stew looked awefully red.

The she peered closer and almost felt ready to throw up.

Which was highly unlike her.

Madam Giry placed a hand on her stomach and pulled back. She swallowed hard to push the bile lurking in the back of her throat down.

The 'pepper' in the potatoes turned out to be dead spiders. The 'meat' in the beans turned out to be roaches—some of which were still alive and struggling to escape. It was the policeman who figured out what was in the stew and what caused it's discoloring.

"Blood and human remains," he whispered to the ballet mistress. "Empty this room immediately and send them to the restaurants for dinner."

Madam Giry felt ready to faint. "Who would do this?"

"I haven't a clue. But hurry and do it now before they see for themselves."

She glanced around and found some of them were eating. She forced down the lump in the back of her throat, held onto the came with a stiff grip, and raised her voice.

"Girl—_all_ of you are to leave at once with_out_ taking another bite! Find meals in restaurants." They raised their heads and stared at her, only a few following orders right away.

"_NOW!_" _Now_ they moved quickly.

They fled the room and Madam Giry followed them to the door. She turned back to the police man and raised her head.

"Excuse me."

-

"You're a wonderful guy, Turok." Charline and he were now walking down the streets of Paris as the sun lowered and the men were lighting the street lamps. She smiled up at him as he continued holding her hand.

He grinned. "I don't try. It's the nature of being a perfect being."

She laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "Yep. I can see you are _just_ like Uno."

He chuckled. "It's the pleasures of being perfect, what can I say?" He stopped laughing when he saw a woman across the street getting mugged. "Charline, go inside this store for a moment, will you? I need to tend to something briefly." He left before she protest.

Turok stalked the man until he ran into an alley and came to a dead end.

"Stuck aren't we?" The man spun around to see Turok blocking his only exit. "Give me that womna's purse."

"Like Hell I will!" The man raised a gun and fired. Turok looked down at the wound on his left shoulder and frowned. The man laughed but didn't see how it didn't phase Turok one bit. The suddenly, the wound began healing right in front of him.

"What the Hell!"

"You should have said that when you noticed I wasn't bleeding."

The man backed into the alley more. "That's _impossible_!"

Turok stepped closer and raised his right arm. He formed his fingers into the gun-appearance and smirked.

"Now _I'm_ fully loaded."

"You're crazy!"

"And you're dead." He fired and shot the man's left kneecap." The man screamed and dropped the gun as he grabbed his wounded leg. Turok stepped up to the gun, picked up up, and backed up again.

"Hmm… a western six shooter. How common for Texas." He stared back at the man then back down at the barrel. One bullet left. He spun the barrel then flung it shut and aimed it at the man's had.

"Russian Roulette," Turok said darkly. "Now tell me why I should let you live and we'll see if it stopped on the bullet or not."

"Bah—you shot at me with your finger!"

"Are you going to let that woman have her purse back?"

"No!"

He pulled the trigger and it _clicked_ empty. Turok nodded.

"Are you going to apologize for shooting me?"

"No!" The man whimpered and squeezed his leg as the pain numbed it.

Turoked pulled again and again it _clicked_ empty.

"Will you live after this moment?"

"No!" The man froze when he noticed the trick and Turok's dark and sinister grin. "I mean yes! _Yes!_"

"Wrong answer." The trigger pulled. The chamber roared out. The bullet flew. The man fell dead. Turok picked up the purse and dropped the gun. When he returned to the streets the woman was with a policeman.

"Ma'am?" He extended his hand. "The criminal is in the alley now. I grabbed his gun after a brawl and shot him."

"You did, did you?" The policeman asked in weary. "How do I know _you_ weren't him?"

The woman smiled and took her purse. "Thank you."

"He's dead. Go look and see. If you don't believe me, I'll be in the flower shop across the street with my date. You can arrest both of us then." He crossed the street as the officer went into the alley.

Charline was looking at handdrawn posters on the wall when she felt something on her shoulder. She turned around and gasped when Turok handed her a single white rose.

"Turok!"

"A present."

"How thoughtful." She accepted it and smiled. "I'm hoping Uno doesn't try to talk me away from you."

He shrugged his shoulders. "No reason why she would." He walked her out of the store and they returned to the theater. Turok stared at the building with dread, hoping that no body was still nervous about his jokes. He didn't expect them to effect the house _that_ much.

"Where to, now?" Charline asked as she followed Turok through the hallways and up to the roof.

"The sun is setting." He stepped out onto the roof and helped her down. She gasped when she saw the setting sun and all its magnificent colors in the sky.

"Oh wow," she breathed out. "Turok it's beautiful." Charline stepped up to the middle of the rooftop and stared out at the view. "I've never really noticed when I was last up here."

"It's a great view," he muttered solemnly. He turned and glanced at the other side of the horizon. "Peaceful when all alone."

"It is."

"Here let me show you." He stepped up to her and placed his arm on her back. He extended his other arm out before her and swept it across the view of the city. "You see the curve of the edge of the city?"

"You mean where the sky begins?"

He nodded. "That is called the horizon."

"Oh wow."

"The horizon is the edge of the Earth, the planet, if you will. You can only see these colors from afar but if you were to fly through them, you would be bathed in the colors and it would give your skin an etherly glow."

She turned to stare at him, her eyes mesmerized. "Wow." Her brows furrowed suddenly. "But how do you know this?"

"I told you that I would prove Uno and I are from another world," he reminded her. She nodded. "Well… I will show you but I don't want you to get scared afterwards."

She chucked. "After meeting Uno and seeing today, I doubt that's possible."

He smirked. "We'll see."

He stared at her face and into her big light blue eyes. He never understood how Morris could marry a woman and father a child. Never understood what would compel him into a human emotion for one who was every inch experimentation as he was. While Turok enjoyed his abilities and the fact that he never grew old Morris had escaped the massacre and fallen in love. Turok knew this because it was in Uno's blood and genes; he was her great uncle, after all.

But now, staring into Charline's eyes, he figured he found what Morris had first felt when he looked into Uno's grandmother's eyes the first time.

He felt like he could actually be human, despite his molecular and chemical structure.

"Turok?" Charline ask softly.

He cleared his throat and realized that the space between them had closed up. He backed away and cleared his throat once again.

"Sorry about that." She smiled and blushed a little.

"It's alright."

Turok dug into one of the pockets of the pants and brought something out. He handed it to Charline and she picked it up, not sure what it was. He watched as she inspected it, brows furrowed, and turned it over in her hands several times.

"What is it?"

"It's a digital stop watch," he replied. "Hit the button on the side, then hit the red button."

She gasped when she saw the digital LCD numbers light up on the little screen then after she hit the red button, saw that it began counting the seconds.

"What is this?"

He pointed to the screen. "Those are the seconds that it keeps counts, which will turn into minutes right here."

"And this?" She pointed to the tiny scrolling numbers on the right. "Nanoseconds."

"Nanoseconds?" Charline tried the word on her own.

"They are half of a second."

"Oh wow."

"Now press the red button again." She did it. "And now the clock had stopped."

"My goodness! This is an excellent invention." Turok picked it up from her hand and let the ribbon cord slide out of her fingers.

"From where we come from it's an ancient invention."

Her mouth dropped. "From where you come from?"

Turok sighed. "I can't explain much to you, Charline." He tucked it away in his pocket after turning the stopwatch off. "It's not my job. Just make sure Uno tells you _everything_." She frowned. "…You deserve that much."

Her smile was soft and sullen.

"But we are from a world where things that are normal to you, are such ancient history to us that the files and records of it all being invented were lost in a great fire."

"A great fire?"

"Hm." He turned to stare at the Moulin Rouge sign flickering on. "The government tried to sovern everything and they wanted to start over. They burned everything down. Only a few documents were saved from the fire but that doesn't consider really much of anything you know about." He turned back to her and gave her a weak smile. "You basically know more about this world than Uno and I put together."

"I… I don't understand."

Turok shook his head. "I can't explain it to you, Charline. As I said, it's not my job; it's Uno's." He stepped back up to her. "Just make certain she tells you."

Charline nodded and Turok did the most amazing thing he ever knew he could do. He didn't know what compelled him to do such a thing, seeing as it was against everything he ever did.

He kissed her.

Charline closed her eyes and returned the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer to his body as she pulled him into her embrace. Their lips parted and tongues met, a dance of wild and wicked flames of passion rose between them.

The kiss ended a little less than a minute later and left the two of them breathless. Charline stared at Turokes chest while he gazed down into her eyes.

"I-I've never kissed a man before," she said timidly.

He swallowed hard. "That was my first kiss, as well." She stared up at him. "It was a first for me, as well."

"You haven't kissed a woman at all?" He shook his head. "Wow."

He smirked. "But I enjoyed it."

"As did I."

He leaned in for one final kiss before walking her to the ladder of her dorm. As soon as she had left he turned back and headed towards Uno's room. When he reached the backstage hallway where he hung the dead bodies earlier he stopped.

Turoked turned around to scan the shadows with watchful eyes.

"Come on out, Erik. I know you're around."

"You are responsible for killing those men," came a dark voice from the mask hanging on the wall besides him. Turok stared at the mask and frowned.

"You're a coward for hiding," he said casually.

It won him the sight of watching Erik step into the light of the hallway where he stood.

"I am _no_ coward!"

Turok grinned and crossed his arm. "Not anymore."

"You killed them and if the police were not bought out by me they would have assumed I did it!" He growled. "You tried to frame me."

"Having fun and framing people are two different things," Turok expained. "_Please_ try to keep that in mind, phantom."

Erik growled low in his throat. "Just who are you, anyways?"

Turok grinned. "Names Turok, Uno's brother."

Erik frowned. "Her brother?"

"She didn't tell ya, did she?"

"No… she didn't."

"See? Well there ya go now." He shook his head. "You love the woman so much you don't even know she had a brother. What else do you not know about her? I'm sure she hasn't said much." Erik stared at him in disbelief. "And here you claim to be her _lover_."

"_Silence boy!_"

"Or what, you'll hang me?"

"I can arrange that it will appear as if an accident had happened instead."

"Sure," Turok snorted. "And make Uno depressed. You know you'd rather not do that."

"No but I am sure she would not like to learn her brother had played horrible tricks on this theater then courted her best friend."

"Actually," Turok paused in thought. "She'd probably love it. Charline hasn't ever kissed a man before so it was a new experience to her."

Erik's eyes narrowed. "I _will_ kill you, _boy_. Make no mistake. You are to _not_ come into _my_ domain and play _God_!"

"But why?" Turok countered. "He's not filling in the job himself so it's left open for others to fill the position for him."

Erik opened his mouth and closed it when he realized something. "You and Uno are a lot alike when it comes to that sarcastic humor."

Turok chuckled. "I said we're siblings." Turok shook his head. "Besides, if I die that means I'm loved."

"What?"

"Quoting the famous poet, Byron: 'Whom the Gods love die young'."

Erik narrowed his eyes. "You will only be loved by the devil."

"Aw well that's satisfying to hear. That makes two of us in our family to go to Hell, then." Turok shrugged and blew it off. "Oh well. See you in Hell then, Erik." He turned his back to Erik and started to walk away.

"I did not say you could _leave_! Return here at _once_!" Turok went into a run. "_Damn it!_" Erik chased afer him.

Turok found a corner up ahead and knew he had to change immediately. The second he'd turn the corner he'd do the change then.

-

Erik hated Uno's brother with a passion and when he took off at a run in the middle of the argument, he loathed him even more. He chased after Turok and called after him several times but the boy kept running.

_What is it with these _men_ who think they are stronger than me yet flee the instant they get the chance?_

Erik rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt.

He didn't find Turok but instead he found Uno, sprawled out on the ground, unconscious, and dressed in the same closed Turok was previously wearing. He dropped to his knees immediately and tucked his hand underneath the nape of her neck. He lifted her head.

"Uno?"

No response.

_Not good._

Erik lifted her in his arms and stood. He wasn't sure what happened to her but he knew she was far more important than chasing after her brother. In the morning, he would report the name to the authorities. Right now, though, he needed to tend to Uno.

* * *

**Now because this chapter was so long and a certain sick and twisted person out there... I won't say names... (coughs)manyvoicesinmyhead(coughs)... has been litterally ripping her hair out begging for this update, I've decided to give her whom she's been waiting for.  
Turok: You've _got_ to be kidding me... right?  
Kitty: No.  
Turok: ...Eh-uh... you go straight to the point, don't even sweat it, huh?  
Kitty: Yep.  
Turok: (nods) Yep... that's what I thought. (waits a minute then flees for life)  
Many Voices In My Head: Turok! (chases after him with Kitty's leash)  
Kitty: (smiles and waves) Have fun Turok!  
Turok: (now chained and being dragged away) YOU BACK STABBING BI--  
**


	36. Technology's Quirk

_Okay peoples... a lotta news before the update._

_**1) **_I started a job so I'll try to write when I can find the time.

_**2) **I_ recently attended a funeral for my cousin so I was pushed back in working and in writing--hence the late updates. My cousin was hit by a drunk driver who was going about 80-100mph. He had a fireman's light switcher, somehow, which changes the street lights to keep his green. The switcher didn't work for the light my cousin was sitting at and he was struck. My cousin died on impact and his girlfriend (one whom we learnt at the funeral he loved a lot), died later when the paramedics got there. 500 people showed up to his funeral, they shut down the 610 Loop circling Houston downtown area (and this is an extremely used freeway/highway, keep in mind), and they only shut down roads like that when the president is on them. Also, the fratnerity brothers would not let anybody bury him; they put the dirt in his grave, themselves. This is another reason I hate alcohol--it makes people even stupider than the human mind already makes them.****

**_3)_ **Also, I've been writing a lot of new stories to my adult fanfiction account. Go to the adultfanfiction website and search for "MistressAlleycat KittyFelone". Some of my new stories may seem a bit touchy for those who are against this war but I'm against my own species and it's written to remind everyone that humanity's as stupid as a vegetable on the hospital bed. (Translation: "Hot Blood" is only for those who are able to withstand the truth shoved into their face about how everyone speaks highly of their strength but really will cower in fear when required. Aso, they are just asw stupid as a vegetable on a hospital bed means that they are just as stupid as a brain-dead human being tied up to IVs and computers to keep vegetated and alive."

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Six - 

Uno's heartbeat quickened the second she sensed she wasn't in her room. With her eyes still shut she contemplated on her current locations. The air was cool and damp; it made her body feel moistened with sweat. The fumes were of mildew and candle flames.

Her ears twitched when she heard the faint noise of piano music, muttered oaths and curses, and the scribbling of a quil.

_Erik…_

The name came as a reminder of what she had done with him last. No, not her, she berated. Turok.

Uno groaned and lolled her head to the side.

How was she going to face him after Turok had forced her into having sex with him? Uno remembered _everything_, unfortunately, from it. Apparently, Turoked had wanted her to never forget the 'love-making' she held with him.

She tried to contact Turok but he wouldn't respond. She pushed him into the front of her mind and attempted to threaten him but he didn't retort back or tease her. He was actually gone from her head completely.

Uno opened her eyes and gazed up at the black lace covered stone ceiling. It wasn't a view she had expected to see yet should have expected it sometime in her life. She turned to glance at the side of the bed and sighed softly. Somehow, she'd have to tell Erik that it wasn't her who had sex with him but rather Turok.

_Oh yeah, that'll be a great thing to say._ Uno groaned and closed her eyes again. _Oiy—Erik, it wasn't me who fucked you. It was Turok, some male creature who possessed my body when I was a little girl._

The thought brought a smirk to her face.

_Please, if I told him that he'd either take me mad or get sick to his stomach._

Uno sat up and yawned. She stretched her arms then reached over to the side for the cord. In less than seconds the lace lifted away and brought her to an amazing view. The side of the lake in Erik's lair was beautiful. Light from the candles reflected off the small waves of the water. Midst from the tops faded out into the air, giving that mysterious feel.

She slid off the bed and took a step closer to the edge but stopped when she felt a chill. She glanced down and frowned.

Her clothes were missing.

And she was in some sort of white gown.

_That fucking bastard,_ she fumed silently, raising her head to glare at the beautiful view. _Just because he fucked my body he thinks he has the right to undress me?_

She stormed out of the room and down the stone staircase but slowed when she neared him. His back was turned and he was sitting in front of his organ-piano. Uno wasn't sure whether it was a massive pipe organ or a beautiful piano, since it looked very much like an organ but it played with piano sounds.

Erik was scribbling something down on paper and paused to hit a key. A low sound erupted from the instrument. After a muttered curse he hit another note, nodded, and then scrawled that down.

Uno smiled at the sight. She never assumed somebody, besides her, would struggle to make the perfect song and kill themselves in the process of it.

Slowly, she neared him. She was just about to extend both of her hands and set them on his shoulders when he cursed aloud and slammed both fists down onto the keys.

"Damn it!" He growled low in his throat. Uno peered over his shoulder stealthly and read the notes then immediately reached out and touched a high note.

Erik shut his eyes and marveled in the sweet sound of the music she started to play. Uno continued the song from whatever notes sprang to mind and brought her other arm around his side. Erik leaned his head back and listened to the music she played for him. He sighed contently and smiled. As she neared the ending point of the song, Erik's hand was grazing the tender skin of her arm. Uno shut her eyes and inhaled his strong masculine scent. He leaned in and kissed her under arm before grazing his lips, softly and slowly, down towards her inner elbow. The notes died off softly and Uno sighed softly.

"Erik," she muttered. He trailed the tip of his tongue back up to where he started and she gasped at the response his intimate touch caused.

"Uno," he grumbled.

She opened her eyes and glanced down at him. Erik was staring up at her with desire laced in his eyes. She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to do or what to say. Turok had forced her to cross the line of friendship to relationship and the last time she had become a lover her mate had been killed. Erik was too valuable to her and everyone else to lose.

His brows furrowed at the solemn expression on her face. "What is it?" He asked. Uno stifled a smile and shook her head but Erik wasn't convinced. He stood up and turned to stare at her. Uno's hands were actually shaking and she had to lock them behind her back to keep him from noticing.

"Uno?"

"I'm sorry, Erik."

He frowned. "Sorry for what?"

Uno hung her head and her braid tumbled over her shoulder. Erik neared her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt weak suddenly and swallowed her nerves.

"Just… everything."

"Turok," he muttered. At that name Uno's gaze snapped up to meet his piercing glare. Her own eyes were wide with horror.

"What?" She breathed out, her voice disappeared.

"You're apologizing for what Turok did, aren't you?"

Her whole world began to spin out of control. How did Erik know about Turok? Was he an old experiment, sent back in time with her? To keep her confused? To torture and haunt her?

She knew she should have remained alert.

_Damn it, Turok! You knew!_

But Uno still needed to know. "H-how do you know?"

Erik took a deep, steadying breath and Uno realized his rage was slowly taking over him. "Your brother and I had words, last night."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Brother?"

"Apparently he finds dead bodies humorous and human organs mixed with meals delicious."

"What?"

"I suggest you warn him—I'll be turning his name into the authorities."

Uno closed her eyes and shook her head. "Wait—Turok said he was my brother?" She gazed up at him. Erik merely stared her down. "Describe him to me."

_Perhaps he only heard me mutter the name._

"He has long ears," Erik said.

_Nope… he's seen Turok, alright._

"Oh God." Uno felt like she was going to faint. "What did he do to me?" She held onto Erik for support. "He didn't want me to know what he was going to do. That _bastard_." She spat out the name like venom on her tongue.

Erik stared at her. "Would you mind explaining to me why you kept him a secret?"

Uno sulked. "Must I?" She dared to glimpse up at him and felt his cold stare piercing her. "I don't know how he got here and what he did."

"He made a mess of this theater and if my reputation were not well known I would have been the prime suspect for it all."

"I'm sorry."

"I suppose you should apologize to my managers, aside from only me."

Uno nodded. "Are you still going to report him to the authorities?"

Erik's eyes narrowed. "You have a better idea?"

"I won't let him come near anyone ever again," she promised. "I swear, Erik." Uno stared up at him with desperation in her eyes. "Turok's gone and won't come back."

"How are you so certain of that?"

"I'll make sure not to let him return," she said strongly. "I'll die if I have to—I won't let him come back here."

Erik heaved a sigh and shook his head. "Ah Mademoiselle Maxwell," he wrapped his arms around her. "If you were to die my heart would stop beating."

Her eyes widened in shock as he held her. "Y-you're joking, right?"

Erik closed his eyes and chuckled softly. "Far from it, my love."

She gasped softly. Fear crawled up her spine at the words he said.

_Love… oh God no._

"Erik I need to tell you something."

He shushed her with soft sounds. "Not now," he whispered. "Right now, I wish for you to dress in the gown I have sewn for you so that I might paint that magnificent portrait of you."

-

Uno was brushing her hair when Charline stepped into her room. It was hours after Erik had released her from his paintings and she was finally able to return. Charline sat down on the settee and sighed. Uno noticed the bright smile on her face.

"Why are you so happy?"

"Your brother is very charming," Charline said dreamily. The brush fell out of Uno's hand.

"What?"

Charline frowned at her best friend. She stood up and picked up the brush then finished brushing Uno's hair. She smiled at her friend in the mirror.

"Turok," Charline said. "He took me to the rooftop to show me things that I have never seen before."

"You talked with him?"

"Oh Uno, we did _more_ than talk." Charline's smile widened. "He took me out to dinner—he _kissed_ me."

Uno stared at her with fear. "He did?" Charline nodded, unaware of what that did to her. "What kind of kiss?"

She blushed. "Well… it wasn't proper, I can tell you that."

Uno felt the air around her get warm. "Oh…"

_Shit._

Charline placed the brush on the dresser. "Well I came to tell you that your brother merely gave me the best night of my life. I have to return now—Meg wished to take me shopping with Christine this afternoon."

Uno nodded. "H-have fun."

Charline wrapped her arms around Uno and squeezed gently. "Tell Turok that I liked last night very much."

Uno swallowed. "Sure." She watched through the mirrow, Charline disappear. "Oh God."

"Well I'm glad I have her a fantastic night." Uno spun around to see Turok leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and a content smile on his face. "She's a beautiful creature, herself."

Uno shot to her feet. "I thought you left me!"

Turok chuckled. "Nah—I only wanted you to relax. I stole so much energy that I was surprised you didn't become dormant. If so, I'd been in your place for more than a few hours."

Uno shook her head. "You made me have _sex_ with Erik!"

Turok nodded and grinned at her. "You'e a _wild_ girl, Uno."

"Damn you Turok! I was trying to stay away from him for a reason!"

Turok growled. He pushed off the wall and stormed up to her. "If you would open your selfish eyes and take a look around you'd see that you're still running from a life not even created yet! Epyon, Tallgeese, and I all teamed up and decided that you should be given a second chance!"

Uno gaped at him. "What?"

"Damn it, Uno." He turned away from her. "Don't you see you weren't _given _a choice to live as a fighter." He turned back to her. "Morris didn't give you a chance to live normal, Uno. He didn't give you a chance to be human so we thought it best to _give_ you that chance."

"Y-you did?"

"That's why I kept telling you to accept what happens. To accept your fate of singing opera—to accept _Erik_!"

Uno stared at the floor. "But what about Richard?"

Turok sighed aloud. "You were right about him—he wouldn't have wanted you because you couldn't have kids and he'd look at the scars on your body and get scared." Uno nodded in agreement. "That's why I told you that. But Erik… Erik is deformed so he won't find your body repulsive."

"Gee—thanks," she snorted.

"You can't have children—which is fine because you know he doesn't want any." Uno glanced at him. "And with his age, he wouldn't be able to produce off spring without birth defects and we don't have the techinology you and I grew up with to stop birth defects before the child is even born."

"But why did you keep reminding me that he loved a demon?" Uno countered. "You wouldn't let me kiss him at the Masquerade Ball, remember?"

"The same reason I had you stop stealing his horse to bathe beneath the waterfall—even though your body can handle ice and snow like boiling hot water," Turok explained. "To remind you of the life you lived and make you question whether or not you're willing to go through with it. Normal people would stop to decide if they want to lead this life or that—you just up and run with it, not caring about what will happen to you in return because you expect the worst."

Uno frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know you can't die," he told her. "So you don't make the choices of what to do with your life. I'm trying to develop that computerized brain of yours into a human organ. Something that doesn't have a chance for mistakes and will have a conscious to follow."

Uno frowned. "Why didn't you tell me this, before?"

Turok sighed. "Because you don't listen to reason."

There was a knock on the door. Both Uno and Turok stared at it.

"Uno?" It was Charline.

"Go see what she wants and we'll continue on with this afterwards," Turok told her. Uno nodded and went to open the door, aware that Turok had faded away. When she opened it, Charline was staring at her with a frown.

"Charline?"

"I just heard Turok."

Uno frowned. "What?"

Charline pushed her way inside and glanced around. "I just heard your brother—I heard Turok's voice." She turned to Uno. "I did, I swear it."

Uno slowly shook her head. "No."

Charline nodded. "Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He told you to see what I wanted and then you two would continue your discussion afterwards."

Uno felt a cold chill run down her spin.

"You… heard him?" Charline nodded. "You actually heard his voice."

"That's not possible." Charline spun around and gasped. She saw Turok standing behind her with a frown much like Uno's.

"Turok!" He stared at her in silence. "I had heard that you left."

Turok, still quiet, stepped to the side. Charline's gaze followed. He stepped to the other side. Her gaze continued to watch. She frowned suddenly.

"What are you doing?"

"Holy shit—you can actually _see_ me?"

Charline nodded. "Am I not supposed to?"

"He's not my brother," Uno muttered. Charline turned around and Turok glanced down at his hands. "He's a figment of my imagination."

Charline's brows furrowed. "What?"

Turok reached out to touch Charline's hair but his hanf merely went through it like a ghost's. He pulled back to stare at his palms then reached out to touch her shoulder. Charline glanced down at her shoulder where his hand sat and smiled.

"You can feel this?" He asked, shakily. Charline turned to him and nodded. "You can feel," he pinched her skin, "this?"

"Yes."

He grazed his fingertips down her arm. "And this?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Turok what did you do?" Uno spat. Turok pulled his hand back and took a retreating step away from both girls. "You did something—what did you do?"

Charline glanced at Uno then back to Turok. Turok only shook his head, his mouth still open. He wasn't sure what was going on as much as Uno and Charline was just as confused as before.

"I have no idea what happened," he muttered.

"You kissed her last night," Uno reminded him. A blush came to Charline's cheeks. Turok gazed at Uno.

"You think that had anything to do with it?"

"I don't know," she spat back. "You possessed me through my eyes—I wouldn't be surprised if you did the same to her through her mouth and tongue."

Charline's blush deepened.

"Alright—Charline you can see me, hear me, feel me," Turok began, "what else?"

Charline giggled. "I haven't a clue."

Turok swallowed. "Fantastic," he bit out sarcastically. "Now there's two girls who can see me—both of which are mad."

Charline frowned, feeling hurt. Uno rolled her eyes.

Great," Uno mumbled. "Just what the world needs more of—two of me."

Charline gazed at her in weary.

Uno froze suddenly and shot a terrified gaze at Turok. "Erik," she spat. "You forced me to kiss and sleep with Erik."

Charline gaped at Uno then to Turok, clearly at a loss.

Turok shook his head. "I doubt you have to worry about him."

Her brows raised. "No?"

"No."

"You don't think he can see _you_ too? Because he plans to tell the authorties about _my brother_."

"Turok isn't," Charline glanced back at Uno, "he isn't your brother?"

"No, Charline. He's… something else."

"Who then?" She turned to Turok. "Who are you, then?"

Turok bit his lower lip and stared at Uno. "She'll tell you," he said. "Won't you, Uno. Charline deserves the truth from the one who's kept it from her long enough."

Uno's eyes narrowed. "I'll tell her when she's ready to hear it."

"I think she's ready now," Turok returned. "She is, after all, part of the puzzle now."

"I will tell her when I am ready to tell her," Uno bit out sharply.

"What is going on!" Charline shouted. Both Turok and Uno jumped at the tone of her voice and took a step away from her. Charline shook her head and heaved a sigh. She brought both hands up into the air.

"Never mind," she muttered. "I'll find out later. Right now I'm probably needed by Meg and Christine." She turned to Uno with a glare. "You are to tell me _everything_ when I return tonight and you," she turned to Turok, "are _not_ going to run from me now that I have confronted you."

"What's to be confronted on?" He retorted. Charline charged at him. Turok's head snapped to the side when her palm collided with his cheek. His eyes widened in shock, amazed that she touched _him_.

"I will see you _both_ later," she growled before storming out. Uno's gaze lingered on the door as Turok rubbed his abused cheek.

"That's the first time anyone's ever laid a hand on me," he muttered. Uno turned to gaze at him, stunned at the outburst, herself. "And being a figment of _her_ imagination, as well."

"Something happened when you kissed her," Uno explained. "I don't know what, but something happened." Turok glanced down at the floor. "And now we have to make sure she doesn't go around, telling everybody about you."

"She's upset right now," he muttered. "She won't mention my name to anyone until she settles down."

Uno nodded. "Yeah. But now what are we going to do about her?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She wasn't tainted with our blood from Synodd—or in our shared case, Blassimeer."

"Well…" Turok glanced at the door. "She is now. _My_ saliva was shared with hers—she's swallowed some of my technological genes." He turned back to his neice. "Which means she's developed about a percentage of our experimentation." Turok paused at Uno's confused gaze. After taking a deep breath, he translated what he meant.

"She's only ninety-nine percent human, now."


	37. Days of Our Lives

Well besides how I just had, again, another fight with my mother I'm doing okay. I got a job at Bed Bath and Beyond and trying to get a job at Fredricks of Hollywood. I was let on about a possible modeling job but other than all that, life is just peachy! (end sarcasm here)

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Seven -

Uno woke and bolted upright in bed. Sweat fell from her chin and pooled on her night gown, which was already damp with her perspiration. Her chest heaving as she breathed deeply, she realized she wouldn't be able to get anymore rest that night.

_Damn you_, she seethed mentally, cursing Turok once again. _Let me be!_

_Not until you admit that you were given a second chance, baka._

Uno slid out of bed and headed towards the door, grabbing her cloak on the way.

"I _do_ accept."

_No you don't and until you do I'll haunt you dreams._

She cursed again and left the room in a rush. She needed fresh air and fast. Normally her nightmares were just dreams of the past but this time it was of Duo and his childhood, a reminder of how _he_ started and how _he_ accepted his fate even after his war had ended.

"Duo still worked as a mechanic," Uno whispered.

_And you can still sing as a diva,_ Turok countered.

Uno paced herself as she rushed towards the rooftop, passing by the dorm staircase on the way. She wasn't aware of somebody watching her. As soon as she made it outside in the snow she screamed.

"Damn you!"

Turok sighed, leaning on the statue. He shook his head and closed his eyes. "When will you learn?"

"When will you go away?" Uno spat back. She stepped up to the ledge and peered over the side. "I just want it all to go away."

Turok shrugged casually. "It did—but you won't accept that."

She pulled out the cross from beneath her cloak and gown and held the small wooden icon in the palm of her hands. Uno frowned at it and felt a small comforting in the piece of wood.

"It's funny how everybody puts so much faith in such little trinkets," she murmured. "Duo used to try and tell me that I should go to church. He said it would help me—that being taught in Catholic teachings would teach me how to be in life."

Turok stepped up to her. "Duo also became the God of Death when he witnessed his catholic church being burned to the ground and his nun-mother raped and killed." Uno frowned and faced the calming eyes of Turok. He smiled weakly. "Sister Helen was raped, Uno. Duo lost it afterwards and took the role of Shinigami."

"He never told me that."

"Well you were too little to know."

She stared at him. "Turok—my mother was blow up to save my life."

"And your mother was also a slut." Uno frowned. "Well she was!"

Uno looked back down at the cross and shut her eyes. She closed her fist, encasing the wood inside, and took a deep breath.

"If these things were true I'd pray and wish that I could see Duo just one more time."

Turok nodded. "I'm sure you would but what would you do?"

She lowered her head, eyes still closed. "I'd tell him how much I loved him."

The door to the rooftop opened. Uno opened her eyes to find Turok had vanished. She turned around to see Charline standing beneath the platform, watching her.

Uno frowned. "Charline?"

"What's wrong?" Charline asked. "It's snowing and you're outside in just your night gown—you'll get sick."

Uno glanced down at the cross in her hands. "I can't die."

"Why not?" Uno ignored the question and put the cross back beneath the gown. "Uno?"

"Never mind it, Charline."

Charline's eyes narrowed. "Damn it, Uno!" Uno glanced up. Right then, a heavy gush of wind whipped to their sides and blew their hairs. Charline's hair picked up as did Uno's braid and for a moment, Uno could have sworn she saw a ghost. Her face paled as she gaped at her new best friend.

"Oh my God," she spat. "It can't be!"

Charline narrowed her eyes and neared her. "What's wrong Uno—_why_ can't you die? Are you going to tell me now or continue leading me on?"

As Charline took steps closer Uno attempted to retreat but the edge of the roof still her.

"Oh God—Theresa!"

Charline pulled back and released a hard slap to Uno's cheek. Uno's head shot to the side and her eyes widened in shock. Charline growled.

"I demand the truth, Uno Maxwell!" She roared out. "And I demand it _now_!"

Uno touched the bruised cheek and gaped at Charline, seeing the strong resemblance between both best friends.

"She's a reincarnation," Uno muttered. "Theresa was your reincarnation." Charline reeled back but Uno shot both hands in the air first. "Alright—I'll tell you."

Charline nodded and backed away. "So what did Turok mean when he said you're not from this time?"

Uno sighed softly. "One thing at a time."

"Alright."

She took a seat and began.

"I was born on All Hallows Eve of the year After Colony one-nine-zero." At Charline's frown she explained. "Even though I was born on the day the evil spirits can roam free I'm not a witch. But the fact behind the AC calendar is told in measurements of when the colonies were built. Technically, by the time I was born one hundred and ninety colonies were built and completed."

"Colonies?"

"Space colonies," Uno explained. "Somewhere in the fourth or fifth millennia mankind has started to colonate on other planets out in space." She paused briefly. "I think my birth year is equivalent to forty-four ninety-six."

She glanced up to see Charline's gawk. "What?"

"Uno—you're really from the future?"

"Yeah."

"Well why did you come back into the past?"

Uno looked down. "Apparntly to get away from my future."

Charline sat down in front of Uno. "Well go on then. I'm listening."

"I was born as Uno Cleaver and I never knew my father. My mother was a woman named Sarah Cleaver, a descendant of who I later learned was a reconstructed human being."

"Reconstructed?"

"In my era people can experiment on other people to create powerful humanoid machines," she explained. "My grandfather, Morris, was one of those created experiments. When something happened to the base, he escaped and I guess wound up having a family. My mother was only half human, seeing as I'm only a quarter machine now." Uno bit her lower lip and dared a glance at her friend before continuing. "Turok is my great uncle."

Charline gaped. "What?!"

"He was Morris's brother and didn't escape the base—the military science base that was built by a madman named Blassimeer—Kayne Blassimeer."

"So who did I kiss?"

"The same guy but… it's also not." Uno shook her head. "I'll tell you in a minute."

"Alright."

"There was a war going on, it was the White Fang War and my mother—I don't remember much but I remember being thrown into an alley as an explosion hit. I didn't go back to her but I watched as people took her away on a cart—I realized later that the explosion killed her."

"Oh… wow."

"So I grew up on the streets for a few years and when I was five, I bumped into somebody—"

"How old were you when she died?"

Uno frowned in thought. "I think two, maybe?" She shrugged. "Somewhere near there."

"So that's why you can speak from experience about not wasting money." Uno nodded. "Wow Uno."

"I later bumped into somebody who wound up adopting me. I didn't think about why I looked exactly like him and had the long hair and street life as he did until later on in my life. But he adopted me—he lived with four other guys, all roommates in this huge mansion. It was owned by a man named Quatre Raberba Winner," Uno smirked, "a guy who was always proud of himself for who he had become.'

Charline nodded. "Okay."

"The mansion was called the 'Winner Mansion' but I later learned it was originally 'Blassimeer Manor'."

Charline gasped. "You mean that base you just mentioned?"

"Yeah."

"Oh wow."

"Duo didn't want me to turn into a stuck up prick so he made sure the money didn't get to my head."

Charline frowned. "I thought Duo was your father." At Uno's icy glare Charline shut up. "Sorry."

"He wanted to make sure that if another war were to break out I'd be prepared—they were the five who won the war that killed my mother. They each trained me, one week for each person. And then I started school. I was homeschool before then so I could be caught up. I thought everyone was smart but when I stepped into class I realized I was smart and everyone was stupid—so I let them know it."

Charline giggled. "It seems you haven't changed one bit."

Uno shrugged. "People are stupid—I'm only three quarters human so I can speak." She smirked. "So I eventually met a friend because I was smart and she was smart—only she stayed quiet whereas I'd tell everyone off."

"Theresa?"

Uno nodded. "She looked _exactly_ like you, Charline." Uno stared at her. "And acted it, too."

Charline smiled softly. "What happened to her, then?"

Uno glanced back down. "I also became friends with a guy named Ricky—he was _extremely_ smart and was basically my clone—there was nothing I could do that he couldn't do. We were so perfect."

"Wow."

"We went to school like that and for years we were the trio—nobody in school ever dared to do anything. The most they _did_ do was talk shit but that's all. Ricky was three years older. And my family never cared that we three would hang out alone in the mansion or wherever—they trusted us that much. And as we got older, Theresa became a sister to me and Ricky became my boyfriend."

Charline smiled. "I think you mentioned his name to me once."

Uno smirked. "I still love him too."

"So what happened?"

"Somebody was getting close to us and we didn't know who. Somehow, information was being leaked and Heero—one of Duo's roommate, had killed an assassin." She smirked and chuckled briefly. "No body should attempt to assassinate another assassin. Duo tortured him for information before discarding the body. Still, we didn't know. And then one day…"

Charline frowned when Uno trailed off. "Uno?"

A tear fell down Uno's cheek. She heaved a sigh before continuing. "One day, when Theresa and I were walking to school, I bent down to tie my shoe and when I looked back Theresa had a bullet hole in her head." Charline gasped.

"I was terrified and yet traumatized—she was my best friend. I skipped school that day and when I returned the next day, I told our professor about it. On the spot he took me out of school and quit then dropped me off. I found out he fought in the same wars with my family—and he was in charge of the White Fang War, the war that was supposed to remind everyone that war was actually good."

Charline frowned. "Why is war good?"

"It was supposed to teach everyone that they had to fight to maintain peace—not leave it up to one person." Uno glanced down at her fingers and continued on. "I was raised by _everyone_ who fought in those wars. Quatre owned half of the population, Relena Peaccraft owned the other half because of her background being princess to a nation of pacifism and then her duties of queen of the Earth—which was colonized into one giant country, mind you. Heero was an assassin. Duo a stealth fighter. Trowa worked as a clown at a circus as disguise for his massive trigger-happy fighter self. Wufei was a Chinese man who taught me martial arts. Sally Po was a medical person who taught me science and medical herbs. Hildie became my mother—Duo's girlfriend. Une was commander of the government program that protected everyone—used to be in charge of the enemy lines in the old wars. Zechs, my teacher, used to be in charge of the same enemy side of the wars and became my mentor as I fought in my own wars later on. And a whole lot more."

"Oh wow Uno. You're a mix of everybody." Uno nodded. "Is there any _you_?"

She smirked. "I like to sing."

Charline laughed. "Uno likes to sing but everything else about her is other people."

"Pretty much."

Both girls giggled before Uno continued on with her life story.

"After that, I was homeschooled again and after some time, Ricky took me on a date. He pulled me to the side in an alley and said he wanted to talk seriously to me. I thought he was going to propose, since we were so perfect for each other." Another tear fell from her eye. "But he pulled out a gun and explained that he had been my enemy since day one, trying to get close to me to learn my weakness, to use it against me. He couldn't pull the trigger and wound up taking his own life."

Charline gaped at her. "Oh my God—Uno!"

"I never took my eyes off his and even after he fell and he was dead, his eyes and mine were still locked." She closed her eyes as more tears fell. "I can still remember it like it was just yesterday."

Charline leaned forward and wrapped her comforting arms around Uno's shaking body. "So that's why you're scared to make friends and fall in love?"

Uno nodded and hugged back. "Everytime somebody I love is found out by other people, they die."

Charline rubbed her back. "I'm not going to let that happen, Uno. You already saved me once before, remember."

"That's why I killed Marcella—Theresa died because Ricky missed me. You would have died because Marcella slipped the ground cut glass into the wrong cup of tea."

Charline pulled back and stared at her. "And Erik?"

Uno hung her head. "I don't know yet."

"Well keep talking—who's Turok?"

Uno sniffled and continued on. "After a few more weeks of solitude and depression, I was in my room and I heard commotion. I opened my bedroom door and there was a soldier for the enemy right there. I killed him then went down stairs to find everyone else gone—and I killed them. Heero's laptop was blinking with a mission and I accepted it."

"Laptop?"

"It's a computer—a smaller version of what makes the experiments. A machine that let's you communicate to other people without seeing them or talking to them. You use words to keep in touch."

"Wow it sounds like a neat future—where you came from."

Uno stifled a smirk. "It's a lazy future, I learned recently."

Charline giggled. "Seeing how much work you have to do now?"

"Hah hah." Uno rolled her eyes. "My family disappeared on me—most were killed, actually. I thought they were kidnapped and tortured for information. The people who trained my family trained me and I became an assassin for them. I killed woman, children, men, animals—everything I had to so I could complete my job. I became the Perfect Assassin, pretty much. Duo raised me to become Shinimegami, the Goddess of Death, but when I got out on my own, I was stronger than that. I later had to have comrades to help me fight and it took me a while to open up to them. One of those people, Justin, I started to like." Uno sighed again. "And then on one assignment, I came across Ricky—grown up, and alive. His people brought him back to life and he beat me up—I couldn't fight back because I was devastated. Justin came in to save me and I was flung out of the window—thousands of feet high into the air."

Charline gasped. "Oh my God!"

"I woke up in a strange bed later and I found out that Duo and the rest of the group—Wufei had already been killed years before—were still alive; they found me. I found out that Duo was my real father, that he and my mother, Sarah, had one night together back in the past. I was angry and left to fight my war, ignoring their warning. Then I guess they somehow found out where my mission was and came to help—but they were killed in front of me and I held Duo's head in my lap as he died."

Charline pouted. "Another one you loved."

Uno nodded. "Something snapped in me just then. I hated fighting for somebody else and I killed the people who sent us all on our missions then took the war into my own hands. I didn't care who I killed in the process as long as I came out victorious and could defeat the whole thing. I wound up finding Danial, Ricky's father, and spoke to him. I found out Ricky was a creation off of my mother's genes and Heero's genes and produced to kill me and me alone. He was my half-brother—I fell in love with my _half _brother." Charline pulled a face. "Trust me, I felt sick too, Charline."

"I bet you would."

"But I still lost it. I killed him then destroyed the entire base. Somehow, the explosion wraped the time and I was sent here. Turok had possessed my brain when I was little and playing around with some machines. I still had my grandfather's genes in my system. Turok was also designed from a battle program that ran the machine I fought in and that combined with two other programs. They sent me back in time—I think to give me a second chance."

"A second chance?"

"I was never given a chance to live a normal life—since birth I was destined to life in a war."

Charline smiled weakly. "So they felt pity for you."

"Unfortunately," Uno retorted. "I wanted death."

"So how did I meet Turok then?"

Uno heaved a great sigh. "He's always invaded my thoughts since I first came here. I started to see him, knowing he was just a figment of my imagination, too. And then he learned how to take control and change the structure of my body—since you know I'm only a quarter machine."

"So?"

"He somehow change me into a man and changed my voice—and that's how you met him."

Charline gaped. "So you _weren't_ around, were you?"

"No. And what's worse, he first took control of my brain and before he changed my body he had met Erik."

"Oh boy—I bet Erik was shocked." Charline smiled. "What happened."

"He fucked him." Charline reddened. "I mean Turok had played my part and made Erik have sex with me—against my will."

"Your language, Uno." Charline muttered.

Uno shrugged it off. "When you see my life you'll understand the reason for swearing."

"So what Turok showed me that time was a machine from your future?"

"The stop watch?" Charline nodded. "Yeah. It's an earlier invention. I didn't think I brought it with me but I guess it was still in my pockets from my training sessions in my youth. I had to clock my speed at things and see how long I could hold my breath under water."

"So why can I see him if he's only in _your_ mind?"

Uno frowned. "He kissed you—so I think some of his genetic chemicals got transferred to you that way."

"Genetic chemicals?"

"… You swallowed his spit." Charline reddened. "Sorry for the bluntness but you asked for it."

Charline giggled softy. "I won't deny I liked it, either."

"Don't expect me to ask him to take over my body so he can sleep with you, either."

"Darn," Charline said sarcastically. "I was hoping on it, too."

Uno stared at her for a moment. "You've been with me too much if you're now using sarcasm."

Both girls giggled and then Charline stood up and helped Uno up, as well. "I'm glad you told me."

Uno smiled at Charline. "I'm glad, too."

"Now go to bed," Charline ordered. "You may not be able to die—with such an amazing life—but you can still get sick."

"Actually I almost got killed on a mission and I had my mentors render me unable to get pregnant or get killed. That's why any cuts or broken bones heal within hours."

"Well some of us don't have that luxury," Charline mumbled. "And since I don't, I'm going back to bed."

Uno laughed aloud. "Goodnight Charline." She hugged Charline. When Charline pulled back she noticed the blue eyes sparkling and felt happy that she had her second chance for her best friend.

Or would it be considered the first chance if Theresa were reincarnated off Charline?

"Have you told Erik, yet?"

Uno froze. She didn't plan on telling him but now that she so freely told Charline, outside on the rooftop where Erik usually hides, he probably heard.

"I'm sure he just found out."


	38. Starting Over

Mwuahahaha!!! I am still alive! I'm bringing old fics back to life and for a change, pausing my aff fics. You should check those out, they're really good. Link's on my bio but its all adult fan or original fiction.

* * *

- Chapter Thirty-Eight -

Erik sat, dumbfounded, and stared down at the two girls beneath him. The cold air pricked his skin and reminded him that if he stayed out any longer he could very well catch a cold. For a moment he was certain snowflakes were falling from the sky but if they were they were melting before they hit the ground.

"Goodnight Charline," Uno said as she wrapped bare arms around her friend.

Erik watched Charline return the hug and then waited until they had both left the rooftop together before making any sudden movements. Uno? From another time? In another world, basically? Could that really be true?

Erik was a magician and knew science like the back of his hand. He knew the possibility of things were always out there but he never imagined somebody would actually time travel.

It just wasn't able to be explained with hard facts.

He slid down off the statue and stared at the closed door. Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow he'd find out what the story is behind Uno Maxwell. Charline seemed to have believed her false story with little proof but Erik wasn't that easily fooled.

He wanted some hard evidence before believing that Uno was sent from another world.

She wasn't an angel sent from Heaven but a demon from Hell to torture him.

-

_I sometimes wonder what would happen if you just screamed out "FIRE!" while the theather's population is all up in the backstage area,_ Turok pondered in her brain. _I bet it would be funny._

Uno frowned but held her tongue lest she be over heard by the dancers nearby. Turok's habit of playing tricks on people were harmful to her and the public.

But mostly to her own health.

_Scream 'fire' and see what happens._

"No," she whispered.

_Please?_ Uno remained quiet. _Can I do it? I'll take over your voice for just a minute—a second really._ She growled. _Damn it, Uno! I'm bored again!_

"Uno, dear, would you please run to my room and fetch me my other ballet slippers?" Uno turned to the soft voice of a dancer around her own age. "I just noticed a tear in these."

Uno frowned. "I can't—I'm waiting on approval from Madam Giry."

"Why?"

"About a change to a few notes in the song I'll be singing next," Uno explained. "I need to catch her before she begins rehearsal."

The girl pouted. "Just for a moment?"

"Why can't you do it?"

"I'm still putting on my makeup—it'll only take a second, please?"

Uno sighed. She hated becoming human and being nice to the public.

"Alright," she breathed out. "Wait right here."

Uno pushed her way through the crowd until she managed to get into the empty hallway heading towards the dorms. At least the dancer had a room of only two bunks—her sister besides herself. It would be easier for Uno to locate the extra pair of slippers.

She saw the door just down the hall and quickened her pace. Through the narrow hall, past the dark corners where couples normally made out, and into the room and back out within a minute; it was that easy.

Until a hand swooped down and encased her body. Uno gasped and gripped the arm with her hands, her fingers digging into the black fabric covering the attacker's skin. But when she opened her mouth to retort a rude remark and a warning, the second hand clamped down over her face with a damp fabric.

She had only a split second to hear Turok saying in her brain, _Erik?!_

-

Uno's head throbbed terribly when she awakened on the cold ground. Hard stone dug into her back and sent shivers of pain through her body.

In the distant she could hear soft notes of piano music, its melody soothing and causing her headache to ease slowly. She tried to get up but failed miserably. Instead, she rolled off her back and onto her stomach.

And her hand came in contact with water.

Eyes snapping open, she learned she was in Erik's lair, on the floor by the lake.

"What the hell?" She spat out. The soft music died suddenly but Uno paid no heed to it and instead glared out at the lake. "What the fuck happened?"

"Such crude words for a woman," came Erik's dark voice. Uno's gaze shot in his direction and a growl emerged from her throat.

"What did you do to me?"

Erik crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Yet for a woman who's mad and insists she is from another time, I suppose to find such language befitting."

Uno was taken aback. "Another time?"

"Is that not what you told the rat last night?"

A cold sweat bathed her just then.

_I knew it…_

"That you were from the future and you were sent here for another chance to live?" A smirk formed on his lips. "Such a mighty strong story if you were to ask me."

"Well I'm not asking you," she spat back. Uno pushed herself up and held her head high. "And I don't appreciate you drowning me with chloroform."

"And yet you believe you are innocent with such a fascinating story?"

"I don't give two shits what you think of me," she snarled. "But in _any_ time what you did was wrong!"

He raised a brow. "Two shits? I say, you're language hasn't changed since the moment you first arrived. I suppose you merely hid it."

Her eyes narrowed. "I did."

"Rather well, I must add in, for you amazed us all with the change."

Uno smiled elegantly all of a sudden and curtsied before him. "I beg your pardon, Monsuire le Phantome, but I do not believe you have adjusted your eyes to notice fine details." She stood back up and held her chin high again. "I am, after all, of noble birth and am royalty from whence I came."

"Remarkable," Erik muttered. "Not only can you imitate such posh life styles but you have absolutely no concept on how to properly grasp it. After all, here you are swearing your very lungs out with such a demeanor that only tells me you have lived on the streets rather than within a household—yet you understand noble mannerism as if it were a common thing for you."

"That's because it _is_ a common thing for me." She paused and turned back to the lake. "And I did grow up on the streets, mind you."

"Clearly."

Uno glared him. "You heard me last night, you needn't me to explain myself anymore."

"No—I do believe I would like to hear you repeat yourself. Perhaps if I catch a slip—"

"How _dare_ you," she seethed. "You actually believe I am foolish enough to believe that you believe me one bit? I'm not the fool, Erik. You're the fool to believe that this world is all there is."

His own eyes narrowed in return. "I know for a fact there is much more to life than what this world has to offer. I have been to Rome, Italy, and even Greece."

"And I have been to all those places but more, _including_ different planets, meteors, and even the moon," she countered. "While you've only searched this planet—I've leaped gracefully onto other worlds."

"What makes you feel I believe a word you said?"

"I know you don't—that's the problem with you and everyone else int his day and age." She glanced down at her hands and locked them together in front of herself. "You and everyone else believe that those who speak wildly are insane and shall be locked away." Uno turned to stare at his organ off in the distance. "But I _have_ seen things no one else has seen."

"Can you prove it?" He countered. "Do you have evidence of this time travel?"

"You saw my clothing that night I first arrived here," she turned back to him calmly. "Does that not tell you enough?"

"No."

"My Sig Sauwer?"

He raised a brow. "Your what?"

"My gun—the revolver I held on you while you attempted to kick my ass with the sword."

"I merely gazed at it—I did not experiment on it."

"And you won't, either!" She shot back. "That gun is my first gift when I was little and at the same time, if you were to even _attempt_ at dissecting it you would end up shooting your own head off."

"Then I suppose there is no other hard evidence you have to show me." He crossed his arms and heaved a sigh. "Such a shame, Mademoiselle Maxwell, that you have become mad. You were a beautiful woman."

Her eyes narrowed. "And you fell in love with me."

He glanced away. "Unfortunately."

Uno's mouth gaped open and she stared at him in shock. "You arrogant, self centered, mother fucking, cock sucking, selfish punk-ass son of a bitch!"

_Phew—now _that's_ what I call an insult!_

His face turned beet red and he gaped at her in total silence, truly surprised by her choice of words and even more surprised by her complete rage of it all.

"_Proof—you want proof_?!" She screamed at him. "Fine—I'll show you _proof_!"

_Uno what are you doing? _Ignoring Turok, she grabbed the neck of her dress and began tearing it down the front. _Uno—he'll see!_

"I'll show you what happens when you fight in the wars I grew up in," she snarled at him. "I'll show you the rewards I received for being the _only_ one of a planet and several space colonies who did what was right." The dress tore down to her waist and she let the rest of it collapse to the ground as she started on her corset. "I'll let you see what you never saw because I made damn sure I was hidden in shadows."

"Uno…" Erik could only watch in fascination. He wasn't expecting her to strip before him but she did and he had not a muscle to move with.

The corset fell and immediately Uno was left naked in all her stripped glory, standing in front of the man who was her boss. To make certain he could see her scars she stepped out of the pool of torn fabric and closed the gap between she and her accuser.

"You see this round dot of color right here?" She pointed to her left collar bone. "Bullet wound from protecting a little girl from her fate of three men. And this," she turned to the gashes on her right arm, "knife wounds from a fight where we both ran out of bullets. Then there's this," here she turned around and let him view her tortured back, "which is _hours_ of physical torture and lashings."

Uno turned back around to face him, her eyes now filled with fresh tears, and her vision becoming distorted. Erik stood, transfixed and emeotionally wrecked. Her story was outrageous but her scars were more than real.

"And this," she touched the nasty scar on her stomach and sniffled back a few tears. "This is from the man I loved but had to kill himself since he loved me in return." A tear fell. "His dead eyes still haunt me to this very day and he was brought back to life to kill me and nearly succeeded in doing so."

"Uno," Erik breathed out. "I had no idea." He raised a hand to her cheek and wiped a fresh tear away.

"Every scar has a story and every story has a death of either my friends, my family, or my loved ones." She sniffled again. "If not me."

"So everything you said to Charline…?"

She nodded softly. "Every bit you heard was true."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "I am so sorry, Uno. I had no idea. I had no evidence to back up your story so I assumed you were crazed."

She stifled a snort. "I wish I were."

"So this is why you are afraid to fall in love and make friends?" He pushed her away to glance at her but she kept her head down. "Because you fear our deaths?"

"Marcella tried to kill Charline," she reminded him. "It had already started the moment I arrived."

"Uno…"

"Turok sent me here because he knew I had no chance to live normal," she explained. "But I still fight the memories of it all."

"Turok—you said he was you?"

Uno nodded. "He's a machine that possessed me when I was a little girl and he is the reason I'm so perfect in everything I do."

_Oh gee… I feel honored._

She frowned. "And he talks to me in my thoughts and annoys me."

… _Thanks a lot Uno. Nice stab in the back._

Erik grumbled. "He is sadistic."

_Sure am!_

"Yeah," she retorted dryly. "He only wanted to have fun when he changed my body."

"Changed your body?"

Uno raised her head. "I'm only seventy-fight percent human. My grandfather was a machine, Erik Because of that, and Turok, another machine, possessing my body, my body structure can change."

He stared into her eyes. "You are not lying?" She shook her head. "So the man who claimed to be your brother—"

"Turok is definitely _not_ my brother." She spat back. "But rather, my great uncle."

His brow shot to his hairline. "Great uncle?"

"Morris, my grandfather, his brother was Turok."

"My God…"

"Doesn't exist," she finished. "I would know—Biblical beliefs were proven wrong in the third century."

Uno sniffled again and retreated a few more feet. "And there's something else."

"What?"

"I had my tubes snipped and my immune system upgraded tremendously."

"Tubes?"

She glanced up at him. "I cannot give birth to children nor can I get uinjured, sick, or die of age." He looked perplexed. "The child thing hit science at the end of the first century—near the second millenium."

"And the immune…?"

"The middle of the fourth century," she explained. "It wasn't well known when it happened to me and wasn't available to just anybody. But, I demanded my mentors do that to me directly after I was tortured and raped by enemy soldiers."

Erik felt anger boiling his blood. "You were abused and violated?"

She cocked a brow. "It wasn't the first time, Erik."

"But it was the last time."

"Actually I was beaten and raped afterwards," she corrected. "And nearly done so here when Charline witnessed me murdering two drunks outside." She noted his upset stance and smirked. "Chill—nothing's the same anymore."

Erik reached up and stroked her cheek tenderly. "You're an amazing woman, Uno. What you must have seen and been through—no woman has the strength to do such a powerful thing, or survive as much as you had."

"My comrade had some of it," she told him. "Her name was Mandy and she was a fighter on my side—but she didn't do as much as I had." Erik leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her forhead.

"I am sorry I did not believe you."

"There's one more thing."

"What?" He glanced down at her. "What is it?"

Uno bit her lower lip. "I have not made love to you." Erik frowned. "You think we had but… we did not."

"I do not understand."

"That one time we…"

"Yes?"

She turned away shyly. "That was Turok, instead of me. You stepped into the room when he was changing me and he only changed our positions and my voice before changing my image." Erik was silent and after several moments it unnerved her. She glanced up at see him staring down at her.

"Turok?" She nodded. "Tricked me?" He backed away. "So you did not…?"

Uno glanced at the floor with regret in her eyes. "Erik?"

"What?" He sounded depressed suddenly. "What is it?"

"Remember that night of the Masquerade Ball and how I kept insisting I was not a demon?"

"Turok was labeling you one?"

She nodded and gazed up at him. "Remember when I said to you, _Aishiteru_?"

"Yes?"

"I had to say it in Japanese because I feared you may get killed if I said it in French or English." He stared at her. "But I'm not afraid anymore and I'm not running anymore, either." Uno neared him. "I love you."

Erik stared down at her. "That is what you said in the other language?"

"Yes."

"How many languages do you know?"

"… I forgot."

_Sixteen_, Turok told her.

"Sixteen," Uno corrected. "I know sixteen different languages and three different machine languages."

He slowly shook his head. "You are an amazing woman." He stroked her cheek. "And you are unlike any other woman I ever met before."

She smiled weakly. "Surprised?"

"Very."

He beant over and kissed her. For a long tantalizing moment their lips met until Uno pushed her tongue through and into his mouth. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and pressed her close to him. Uno locked her hands behind his back and returned his desire equally.

After a moment the kiss broke.

"Do me a favor?" She whispered. "Show me?"

Lust filled Erik's eyes and she felt the desire press against her belly. She knew he understood her plea. Erik, even though he was much holder than her, loved her more than the stories she's heard of how he loved Christine.

"I intend to."

-

_After Colony 210_

_Calendar years: 4515_

"Damn it!" The window to the office shattered. "What the fuck is wrong with me?!"

Vincent barged into the office to see Justin with his head in his arms on the desk and the window broken. He frowned and stepped carefully into the room, wondering what had happened and what had made the window break.

Then he noticed Justin's laptop missing.

"You threw your laptop out the window?"

"Yeah," Justin murmured.

Vincent neared the window and peered over the ledge. The broken computer was laying in the bushes two stories down.

"Why?" He turned back to his friend. "What did that poor machine ever do to you?"

Justin raised his head and glared his friend. "It refused to work."

"You couldn't fix it?"

"Damn it, Vincent." Justin shot to his feet. "We can invent teleportation devices but we can't invent time travel? Why?!"

Vincent stared at him. "I think you've been studying too much, my friend."

"To Hell with you," Justin spat before turning away. "You didn't lose anyone important. Mandy's still around for you to fuck every night so what do you know about lonesome stress?"

"She's pregnant."

Justin froze and turned to stare at him with widened, shocked eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I got her pregnant."

"Y-you did?"

Vincent snorted. "You don't think I know what stress is? She's the Queen of humanity and here I am, the General of all militaries, getting her pregnant—an _unmarried_ queen pregnant, no less!"

Justin paused as if in thought. "See why we need the time traveling device?"

"What?" Vincent frowned. "What does time travel have to do with Mandy being pregnant?"

"If we could time travel, you'd go back in time to tell yourself to stop before anything came of it."

Vincent nodded slowly. "Alright Justin—I think you've hit rock bottom in the stress level and are now going insane."

"Whatever." Justin sat back down. He was just about to rest his head in his arms again when a thought occurred to him. With another spur of shock in his eyes, he gazed back up at Vincent. "Mandy's pregnant," he murmured as if in realization.

Vincent cocked a brow. "Didn't I just say that?"

"I thought she couldn't get pregnant." Vincent frowned. "They snipped her tubes."

"Well something happened cuz she's pregnant and the doctor found out it was mine."

Justin stared at the desk. "It's not a definity birth control."

"Perhaps it is but her tubes healed on their own." Vincent shrugged. "Weird things like that _have_ been known to happen."

Justin gasped and looked back up at him. "Uno!"

"What about her?"

"She had the same thing happen to herself, remember? What if she assumed she could never get pregnant or even got raped again?"

Vincent sighed and rolled his eyes. "You think about her _way_ too much, my friend. It's time to stop and move on."

"No—what I'm saying is what if she gets pregnant all of a sudden—"

"How and from who?" Vincent drilled out. "It's Uno—she _loathes_ the world."

"Yes but some things can still happen," Justin explained. "What if she got pregnant—she could very well kill the kid."

"So it's her choice."

Justin glared Vincent. "Vincent… do you forget? We found out she was delivered to the nineteenth century—women do not kill children."

"They don't kill them now," he reminded Justin. "But still she would."

Justin heaved a sigh and laid his head in his arms. "I need to be alone."

"Whatever." Vincent headed for the door. "I only came in here cause I heard you break the window."

"There goes all my work," Justin snorted. "Now I have to remove the hardware and install it into another machine to retrieve those hours of hard work."

-

_Calendar years: 1873_

Uno raised her head and glanced down at the man lying beneath her. He had taken her the way she's never imagined and flew over the sky in speeds she's never reached. Each scar he uncovered he kissed and each time he did so Uno was pulled back to the time it had happened.

When he kissed her bullet wounds she gasped as if being shot again. When he licked her knife wounds she hissed the way she did when the blade sliced through her skin. When he claimed her body she reacted much the way she did when she was raped, but instead of screaming in agony she screamed in desire, pleading for more.

With the desire flowing through her veins so freely Uno wasn't surprised to learn how quickly her body had become spent.

She released a deep breath and stifled a smirk. Now that Erik knew the truth about her there was nothing else left to hide or to run from. She was clean now, no more secrets or lies to be told, no more hiding, and no more reason to flee in fear.

She laid her head back down on his chest and closed her eyes, pleased to finally be able to move on with her life and become a normal, living being.

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REVIEW!!!! 


	39. Climax Breached & Secrets Revealed

**Okay everyone, we've reached the climax of this story! Chapter 38 was the climax and when Uno become.. well.. normal... (shrugs). Now we start to end!**

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- Chapter Thirty-Nine -

Over the span of the following months Uno had changed dramatically. Not only did she cease her arguing with Erik over petty things but she started to show her face more often by staying out of the shadows. First it was Charline who noticed the change but Charline helped Uno feel more comfortable by staying by her side. But then it was Meg to notice that Uno went to rehearsals and practiced with the rest of the corpse de ballet. Meg was so baffled that she even asked Uno what had brought on the sudden change.

All Uno told her was, "I've realized what I've been doing wrong in my life."

Meg didn't know what she meant but she didn't question it further.

Madam Giry was proud that Uno had changed. She didn't know the relationship between Uno and Erik had enhanced greatly but Uno had a feeling the woman had guessed it. Lastly, Christine found Uno's change and commented on it.

After one of the operas Uno didn't go and hide in the shadows as she used to. In fact, she came out to welcome everyone, thank everyone for showing up, and mingle. Christine had found Uno talking with several admirers and even though Uno had to grit her teeth to stand ground with Christine, she welcomed the gesture.

But it was the relationship between Uno and Erik that had done wonders. Since the night where Uno told Erik the truth of her existence there has been nothing standing between them and Uno felt all the more alive. She not only loved the fact that Erik had helped her become more human but she gloried in the fact that he understood her motives and didn't push her too fast.

In fact, he perfered to stay in the shadows instead of coming out in the public like her.

And over the months when the society of Paris began noticing Uno's change they came to learn something else.

Uno and the phantom were an image and an image that none of Paris could ever match.

When the news got out that the phantom of the opera, the owner of the theater, the man who once tried to cleaverly steal Christine away had become Uno's lover the city was in aghast. Several people believed she was under his spell but each time they confronted her on it she would assure them that all was well.

And to back up her theory she reminded them that she was much like Erik until she opened her eyes.

Uno stopped getting invitations and calls from available bachelors and Erik stopped becoming jealous whenever he found her mingling with the Parisians. After all, now that he knew Uno was his and his alone and that no one else would understand where she came from and what she had to endure to get where she is now, he had relaxed tremendously.

But one thing made Uno all the more different than ever before: Turok.

Not only did Turok stop invading her thoughts and minds but he stopped, all together, his constant annoyance of her boring life. Usually Turok would rant about being bored and disturb her peaceful ness, remind her that she wasn't a normal human being and that mingling with society wouldn't benefit her whatsoever and he would constantly try and controlher movements.

Now, if Turok even showed himself it was entirely. He stopped becoming a thought in her brain and became a full figment of her imagination whenever he wanted to appear. Erik still could not see him but there were a few times when Turok appeared before Uno when Erik was present. She was thankful the two of them couldn't meet again; Lord only knows what Erik would do to him after the stunt Turok pulled the one time he was turned lose.

Though Charline saw Turok periodically, Uno never bothered to care. Turok may rarely come around to Uno any more but he showed his face every chance Charline was alone. It even got on Charline's nerves at one point while she was dressing and he appeared behind her.

She learned quickly that she couldn't do anything about it because he's only a figment of her imagination as well and had the ability to become nothing but air should she throw something.

She tried and broke a picture on the wall.

"Now I can see why Uno got annoyed with you so much," she had mumbled when she first learned Turok can't be harmed.

But the relationship between Turok and Charline grew into a strong bonded friendship and even, at given times, a couplet. Since Charline had proven herself a wonderful dancer and anced a duet most times with Meg, she wound up getting her own private room, albeit much smaller than Uno's. But there were times Uno had the strong feeling that Charline wasn't alone for dinner or she wasn't alone at night and she was rewarded with learning why.

Even though Turok had stopped appearing as often as he used to Uno could sense what he was doing if she dug deep enough into her subconscious. The result of doing so had made her feel excited and then when she saw Erik those nights she would make him excited.

It had become a vicious cycle and one that had annoyed Uno tremendously. Charline enjoyed it, Erik had not a clue why Uno was often desperate, and Uno was tortured from it all because of the functions Turok's part of her mind was doing to the rest of her mind and body combined.

She couldn't even confront him on it because everytime she came close he would just grin and remind her that it'll only happen again, which in turn would make Uno scarlet in the face from embarresment and storm away with anger.

And one night, when Erik was away from the theater for an entire week, Uno go so upset she stormed across the building and pounded on Charline's door. Charline opened the door flustered, clutching a robe to her body, and Uno saw Turok sitting on the bed appearing to smoke a cigarette.

"You do know you're not _really_ being _fucked_, Charline, right?" Uno asked her.

With heated cheeks Charline glanced away sheepishly. "Uno you're language," she murmured.

"You're an American," Uno reminded her. "You're used to it. Charline merely bushed more. "He's not really touching you, Charline."

"It feels so real as if he were," Charline muttered. She turned back to Turok and I response Turok winked back at her.

"He doesn't have to touch you and you can orgasm." To drive her point home, Uno added in sourly, "He used to do it to me often."

Charline frowned and turned back to Turok. Turok immediately sat up and glared Uno.

"Back stabber," he spat out. "I think I'll just make it worse for you." He turned to Charline and extended an arm. "Come back to bed, baby. Leave Uno be."

Charline feined a smile at Uno and wished her a goodnight before shutting the door. Uno didn't even make it half way back to her room before collapsing to the ground with a tremendous orgasm.

"Damn it," she seethed out. She wrapped her arms around her body and began to tense as a violent shudder wracked her body. "Damn you Erik."

She barely managed to pull herself to her feet and slip through one of Erik's traps to save herself the humilitation of staining the ground. It wasn't until she was alone in the confines of solid stone, and a sound-proof hallway that she released a screaming moan.

But when Erik returned later that week he didn't even have a chance opening his mouth to talk before Uno tackled him and took him on the spot.

And then spring came and went and summer ended. For Uno's birthday Erik presented her with his finished masterpiece: the painted image of her in her most elegant gown ever. He presented it to his managers and they agreed that, since Uno was their best diva ever, it should hang in the most visited place of the theater—the grand hall.

"So how many people did you kill?" Uno asked him as she sliced a chunk of apple with a knife. She set the knife down on the plate and returned to the pillows Erik had set out for them to sit upon near the base of his lake. Uno sat back down and leaned into his arms while she nibbled at the apple. Since Uno opened up that one evening many months back—nearly a year now—her relationship with Erik had greatly enhanced and they shared a common ground with one another, and it wasn't music.

"How many?" His brow rose and he glanced off I thought. "Really I can't say it's that many."

She smiled up at him. "How much?"

He contemplated for a moment. "No more than four… perhaps five if my memory serves correctly."

She glanced up at him. "_Only_ five?" Uno giggled and bit into the chunk. "Did you torture or just kill?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders. "My ownly torture is to frighten them as I stalk them."

She laughed and he smiled down at her. "That's the best torture ever."

"It is."

"I used to stalk for my missions but it wasn't as much fun as it should have been," she explained. "I had to keep myself hidden and not let my victims aware that they were being followed."

Erik kissed the top of her head and started talking again but Uno was no longer paying any attention. Instead, she began breathing heavily and felt her world world spinning out of control. The apple fell out of her hands as the sensations of her body warming up got to her. Erik noticed her sudden change and frowned.

"Uno?"

"Erik," she rushed out with a panic. He pulled back to gaze down at her. "Uno—what's wrong? You're shivering. Are you cold? I did not think it was that cold."

"Damn you," she seethed out. "Damn you Turok."

Erik frowned. Even after learning about whom Turok really was Erik still wanted to kill him for playing the tricks on his theater that year before. "Turok—"

"And Charline," she panted out. "The two of them…"

Realization swept over him in a span of two second before a grin splashed onto his face. He knew now why Uno was often aroused and desperate for him.

She began panting quicker now. "They're early."

Erik's eyes glinted with mischief. "Are they now?" Her moan was his response. Uno closed her eyes and tried to fend off the growing feeling in the pit of her belly but to no avail. She gasped, her eyes widing, whe she felt Erik's lips onn her neck.

"Erik!" Without realizing what she was doing, Uno wrapped her arms around his back. "Stop—this isn't fair," she rushed out. "Turok's torturing me—he's with Charline and it's making me aroused."

"Then I should take advantage of the moment," Erik mused.

A moan was his response and several hours later Uno was herself again, albeit spent and laying on top of him.

"I really want to kill him," she grumbled out without lifting her head off his chest. Laughter bubbled up from Erik's chest and he kissed the crown of her head.

"Now you see my dilemma."

"There is a way but I'm not suicidal anymore." His arms hungrily wrapped around her body and he held her close to him tightly.

"You are not going to leave me," he demanded. "I will not allow it."

She slapped his shoulder playfully and looked up into his face. "You don't own me," she reminded him. "And still you know I'm not going anywhere."

There was a hard gaze in his eyes though he smiled with warmth. "I know."

She smiled and laid her head back down. Erik inhaled a deep breath and released it but as it bellowed out of his lungs so did a ripple of coughs. When he didn't stop for several seconds Uno glanced up at him with a frown.

"Erik?"

He put his hand in the air to still her. "Do not worry," he assured her. "I'm fine."

"I've noticed you've been coughing like this for the past several months."

He smiled warmly. "Have I?"

"And it's been getting worse." She pushed up to her elbows and gazed down at him. "I want to inspect you later."

"You can inspect me as often as you want."

Uno slapped his arm. "I wasn't meaning that." He chuckled but broke into another ripple of coughs. However this time, she recalled hearing his type of cough from somewhere.

But where?

"I am alright, I assure you," he confirmed her. "I am just getting old."

A knot welled up within Uno's stomach. She frowned. "How old… again?"

"Fifty-two."

Her worst fears were confirmed. _He's fifty-two and I'm sleeping with him?_ She mused silently. _I'm sixteen—he's fifty-two. Thank God the term pedophile wasn't created yet._

_Please don't do that_, responded Turok out of no where. Uno didn't expect to hear him that she was actually stunned he invaded her thoughts. _I'm trying to woo Charline, damn it. You're turning me off!_

A dark smirk swept over her face. _Thank you, Turok. I now know how to fight back._

… _You know I hate you sometimes._

"What is so funny?" Erik asked, bringing Uno out of her thoughts. She realized she was grinning and shook her head.

"Nothing, I'm fine." She leaned down to kiss him. "But I _am_ worried for you."

"Nonsense," he spat out. "I'm as healthy as can be."

He coughed again and Uno finally placed his cough to the memory of what it meant. She took a deep breath and felt her heart breaking.

"You're dying."

Erik swallowed but choked out a bitter laugh to keep from agreeing. "What?"

"You've done morphine," she told him. "I know because in one of my missions I had to swoon one of my enemies who did morphine," she explained. "He coughed much the same way. Plus I studied toxins and what they do to the human body."

"Uno I am fine." He smiled. "Trust me."

But Uno wasn't convinced. He was in his early fifties, had done morphines all his life, was born deformed, and rarely took care of himself since he was malnutritioned.

He knew he was going to die shortly.

"Alright," she said finally. With a forced smile she leaned down and kissed him.

It was several minutes later, while their fingers intwined and grazed each other's palms, that Uno felt at ease enough to actually relax. Her lids fluttered closed as the sensations of her emotions flowed through her veins. She smiled, happy that she was able to relax in her life and be normal.

Erik planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head then very softly murmured, "Marry me." She raised her head and gazed at him. "Please Uno."

Her lips parted but no words would escape. Marry Erik? Could she marry him? She knew she would never leave him for she doubted any other man would ever understand her entire existence ever again but marriage?

The thought brought tears to her eyes and curled the corners of her lips in.

Erik leaned in and kissed her softly before staring into her eyes. "Please?"

"Why?" She breathed out.

Even after all these months where Erik treated her like a queen Uno still wasn't sure why someone would want her and how she could handle it. Even through all the months where she began living like a normal being she was still unsure if she was doing something 'normal' or if her enemies were watching.

And even after all these months she feared Charline or Erik would get killed because she loved them.

"Because I love you," he told her. "And I want to make you happy."

A tear cascaded down her cheek as she smiled and choked out, "But you do."

"Then make me happy." He grazed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Please?"

She sniffled back another tear and stiffed a smile. "I love you, Erik."

-

_After Colony 210_

_Calendar years: 4515_

"Justin!" Mandy wrapped her arms around her old friend and squeezed. "My God it's been forever!"

Justin smiled and returned the gesture. Chris had told him about the Spring Ball they were going to hold, celebrating the second year of peace and even though he didn't want to attend, he figured Chris had a point. If he kept his face in his studies he'd miss one of the biggest clues to ever finding Uno.

Uno herself.

"How have you been?"

"Surviving," she breathed out. When she pushed away she spared a quick glance at her surroundings and lowered her voice. "I'm pregnant."

Justin nodded. "So I've been told."

She heaved a sigh and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I heard that Chris has started a new project."

His interest expanded. "Oh?"

"Vincent's located the main underground base of headquaters for Synodd," she explained. Justin felt his heart thrumming beneath his chest. "Found a few machines still running and feeding life into the experiments."

"Uno was right," he muttered. "Synodd will always be there."

"Well not really." She glanced around quickly. "He said the creatures were dead, that the machines didn't quite keep them alive. The base was underground but it had appeared to have shut down when headquarters was taken down by Uno's final explosion."

"So they _weren't_ being kept alive?"

She frowned up at him. "It's strange… he said when his men found the tubes one of the creatures opened its eyes and stared right back at him. It never tried to move because it was being sustained with injections of something to numb its limbs and it didn't move its face away from the oxygen mask. But after they powered down the machine a second creature opened his eyes—only this creature didn't need an oxygen mask and Vincent said it had gills."

"Gills?"

"I think Synodd was trying to create the stuff that Blassimeer once created in the mansion."

Justin gazed around and thought quickly. "It _does_ appear Synodd's copied more than a few papers but… what were they planning on doing?"

Mandy shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps take over humanity and become ruler of everyone. Having a hoard of creatures not human and more powerful than our machines is a big plus."

Justin heaved a sigh and crossed his arms. "Well Uno was right… she would always be followed."

"I hope she's found peace now. Chris had decided to open up a research team to help develop newer studies pertaining to things they've found at the ruins."

His brow raised. "Ruins?"

"In the French territory," she explained. "The ruins of the Paris Garnier Opera Theater."

"Yeah Vincent said they found a lair beneath it it which held a portrait of Uno in some elegant gown," he explained. "It was hand painted by a genius, it looks like, and she's so beautiful in there it almost looks too impossible to even be her at all."

Mandy stifled a weak smile. "Well they also found a faded square on the walls of the grand staircase. It looks like it was hanging in the main hall and removed not long after. Chris's researchers tested the paint residue against the sun and discovered it was right around the time the Paris Commune made it to the theater."

"What?"

Mandy sighed and pulled him to side of the room. "Chris's resarchers found out," she began, "that Paris had a war of the government and it was killing the rich people off. It had began slowly and silently and slowly made its way known. He found out that it would have skipped the theater entirely had Uno not been so popular and famous, but since she had developed a name for herself with her opera they were after her as well."

Justin shook his head and chuckled, a dark grin on his face. "She killed them, I bet?"

"Actually no."

He stared at her in disbelief. "No?"

"Records stated that the commune only lasted a few months two years before but somehow a few people remained." She glanced down. "Somebody saved her."

"Who?"

"Erm…" Mandy spared a quick glanced at his interested gaze before turning to the dancers. "Lovely ball, isn't it?" She said weakly. "All the gowns are beautiful."

"Mandy." Justin sensed she was holding back. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Her husband."

The words slammed into Justin's chest like a building of bricks falling to the ground below. His breath lodged in his lungs and it felt as if his whole world were collapsing. His head suddenly felt light and his dizzy.

"H-husband?" It was hard to say the words suddenly. "Her h-husband?"

Mandy spared a quick glance to a few passer-bys and feined a smile at them. She swallowed hard, knowing that it was wrong to tell Justin news about Uno's success but it would kill him if she had lied. She smiled graciously and accepted two glasses of wine from a servant as he strode by and handed one to Justin.

He drank it in one gulp.

"I had to tell you," she rushed out. Mandy stared down into her glass and chewed her lower lip. "It wouldn't be right to keep it secret."

"No," he breathed out after the heat of champagne burned down his throat. Justin blinked the haze away from his eyes and cleared his throat. "No it wouldn't."

"Uno did what she had to do to save us," Mandy reminded him. "She did it out of love."

"Of course," Justin clearified. "Loyality is all that matters."

"Justin it wasn't loyalty that made her leave—Uno loved you—"

"Uno loved war," Justin corrected bitterly. His eyes narrowed down on Mandy's innocent blue orbs. "Nothing else. All that she loved was war and war alone—and you know why? Because those she loved would get killed."

Mandy lowered her gaze. "Justin…"

"Uno most likely married the man out of loyalty," he summed up. "It was the year, after all, where arranged marriages were common."

"Uno married him out of love and devotion," she rushed out. She stared up at him with equal feelings and emotions that mirrored his own. "She married the man out of love."

"And how do you know this?" He bit back. "Uno doesn't know how to love. She is a warrior—born in a war, bred for war, and only knew how to fight in a war."

"Uno is a human being, Justin," Mandy growled. She realized her voice had rose in pitch and lowered it quickly. "Maybe if you weren't always so tensed in your studies you would have remembered that."

"I was trying to find a way to bring her back home."

"Home? Is this really her home?"

"This is where she belongs—damn it Mandy, don't you see?" He widened his arms. "Uno doesn't belong in the past. She belongs with us, in the future, where mankind reaches the outer planets—not the out regions of Earth."

She ground her teeth. "You mean she belongs with you."

Justin pressed his lips together.

"Isn't that what you meant to say?"

"Mandy—"

"Maybe you should think about her for a change."

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to do? Tell me what I don't already know about her?"

Mandy bit out a dark chuckle and glanced around at the dancers besides them. "You really have no idea for history, do you?" She turned her gaze back to his. "Uno has always loved to sing and she was frightened to begin singing opera but she was pressured into the matter by the owner, who is now her husband."

Justin frowned. "Uno—"

"Of course Uno fought him as she always fights to make her own decisions," Mandy continued. "But I read that she sang opera for the theater then later became the only diva to ever sing in the building since."

"How is that—"

"Of course the owner had died long before the theater became abandonded, but while he was there he had made her the happiest wife ever. Like herself, he was a genius in every aspect of nature. Though given her trainings in her youth Uno wasn't ever able to find a match until she met this man. She had thought Ricky was her match but that was only because he was cloned off her, though from Heero and not Duo."

"Yes but—"

"But the fact that her husband had died long before the building got abandonded tells us that she had remained the diva from hence on and the records never said what became of her… or her best friend."

Now he was at a lost. "Best friend?"

"While there, Uno found a friend and became as close to her as she was with Theresa." Mandy brushed a stray lock of blonde hair off her shoulders. "I believe it was seventy years before they left together and no one knows what happened since. Though throughout that time the managers had changed and new managers had come to take their places, along with the rest of the staff, and Uno her her new friend, Charline, had to hide their identies."

"Hide their… what are you talking about?"

"Perhaps you should start looking around your surroundings and not so much in the history documents," she seethed out. "You may very well find what you're looking for."

"Are you telling me Uno lived all these years?"

"Well she never once aged in the seventy years she sang for the theater," Mandy rushed out. "So I guess I am."

"That's just impossible—"

"Impossible to happen or impossible to believe?" She countered. "Or is it impossible for _you_ to believe because she has fallen in love with another man and left you behind? Vincent, Chris, and myself have moved on but you refuse to."

"Mandy—"

"This is a spectacular party, Justin," she clipped. "I don't wish to keep my people waiting any more."

And just like that Mandy spun on her heels, her hair twirling with her figure, and left him speechless.

Justin gaped at her, unable to comprehend everything she just had told him. He glanced down into his empty glass and thought to himself. How could Uno have moved on? Sure she would have to adapt to her surroundings—what human couldn't?

But Uno was a warrior, built specifically for war and war alone. How could she fall in love?

_She fell in love with you_, his mind berated. _And Ricky._

He felt hurt deep down inside and felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. Forcing back the pain that was pounding away in his chest, he turned away from the glass and out to the dancers.

Mandy was right. The gowns were beautiful and colorful and everyone was having fun.

"Sir?" Justin turned to the servant. "May I take that from you?"

"Yes thankyou." He handed him the empty glass. "Quite a night."

"Indeed it is Sir."

The man moved on and Justin heaved a sigh. He stuffed his fists into the pocket of his pants and glanced around, noticing the faces and smiles the women wore and the glint of honor the men held in their eyes, apparently proud to accompany their beautiful dates. His eyes read stories from the lips of the women gathered around one another to tell tales and his ears picked up on whispers one man would tell another.

"My, she is glamourous," said an elder man. "I had the honor of dancing with her."

"As have I," came another though this man was much younger. "And I have to say she moves gracefully, as if she were a ballerina dancer at one point in her life."

"But she is _young_," said a third. "No more than twenty-five. How could she dance so well when to dance like that you'd have to dance more than a lifetime?"

Justin frowned. _More than a life time?_

"Her name is Lady Charline," said the first man. After clearing his throat, he continued on. "She had just arrived here from the French Territory of Earth with a dear friend and they are staying for the week."

"Earth?" The third man repeated.

"Such a beautiful planet," muttered the second. "Lady Charline? Sounds rather elegant."

"Sound's equisite," the third corrected. "Is she of noble birth?"

"I believe she said she was made noble from another," the eldest explained. "But she is all American yet speaks French as if it were a second language."

The men chuckled.

"A French woman?" Chuckled the second man. "I would sure love to get to know her more."

"She claims to have been a descendant of one of the greatest women alive—one who danced at some famous theater in the French Territory." The eldest continued explaining but Justin was no longer curious.

Now he was keenly interested.

_French woman?_ With a frown he gazed around the room for the woman in question. _Descendant of the dancer at the theater? Lady Charline?_

There, in the midst of several women, stood one who wore a stunning cream gown. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun with a few whisps hanging down her shoulders. Diamonds weaved around her neck and for a moment, she turned and Justin caught her blue eyes staring right at him.

_She looks just like Theresa!_

Justin was about to head in her direction when another woman stepped up to him.

"May I have this dance, Sir?" The woman asked with a sweet, high pitched, southern belle accent.

Justin only glanced briefly at the woman who caught him and back to the French girl but when he did she was already gone, hidden within the sea of women gossiping amongst each other.

"Sure," he said slowly.

"It's a magnificent ball, is it not?" The woman asked.

Justin nodded. "It is."

He took her hand gently and walked her out to the dance floor. He frowned, still gazing around the room for the familiar blue eyes he knew he'd seen elsewhere. But still, not able to locate them, he started to believe he had imagined it.

"Are you alright, Sir?" The woman asked.

"I… I'm fine." Justin turned back to her with a smile. "Just thought I saw somebody I knew."

She smiled softly. "Somebody you miss?"

He took her gloved hand in his and held the other behind his back. The woman's brown hair was swept up into a bun behind her head with several curled whisps of hair fluttering down her shoulders. Her violet eyes flashed up at him with an elegance he never knew was possible to possess and her smile radianted beauty.

He lowered his gaze and noticed the strand of diamonds and pearls around her neck then the low bodice of pale blue that she wore to accent the glimmer of sparkles from the diamonds.

"She looked familiar," he murmured out suddenly. "Somebody I was hoping could help me find someone else." He returned to her gaze with a smile.

The woman's smile softened. "You did not know the woman?"

"No," Justin admitted, "I have not had the pleasure of introducing myself to her."

The woman's eyes strayed to his chest and an odd familiarity crept into Justin's being.

Did he know this woman?

"Lovely party."

The woman smiled up at him. "It is."

"So are you here all by yourself?" He danced them slowly around the bend of the floor. "Or with your husband?"

"Oh," she feined a chuckle and waved her free hand before the exposed cleft of her chest. "I have not married," she said breathlessly. "I am here with a friend. We have received the invitation."

Justin nodded. "Where are you from?"

"Earth," she replied. "This is the first time my friend has ever been to a colony. She was quite enamoured with the thought of flying out here."

Justin smiled. "Was she?"

"Yes," the woman turned away, "but while she catches the eyes of many I am at a loss of what to do."

"Well perhaps I have helped you spend a little of that time."

The woman smiled. "You have." A moment of silence went by before she spoke again. "So tell me of this friend you are seeking? Do you believe the woman you noticed earlier can help you find him?"

Justin frowned. "I hope so. And it's not another man but another woman."

"Oh?"

"Someone I lost," he muttered. "Someone I held dearly."

"Oh," she murmured, her gaze dropping to his chest again. "I see." She cleared her throat and shyly gazed back up at him. "Someone you loved?"

He nodded. "I am sorry, ma'am, if this stuns you at all."

"No," she rushed out with a forced smile. Justin frowned and stopped dancing. Her eyes began to sparkle with what appeared to be fresh tears. "I can tell you loved her. Tell me… did she love you in return?"

"I think she did," he mumbled. He raised his hand to gently cup her cheek. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

The woman closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. If Justin hadn't known any better he'd say she appeared heart broken suddenly. Did she secretly love him and just feel hurt at finding out he loved another.

_Wow it sure seems like a lot of love is being stolen by other people tonight_, he mused bitterly.

"I am fine," she breathed out. Upon opening her eyes he saw her violet gaze sparkling back up at him.

"Very few people I know have violet eyes," he murmured. "In fact, there was only one I can recall. What is your name?"

The woman's lower lip trembled briefly before he noticed she controlled it. "My name is Maxine."

Justin smiled softly. "Maxine," he said softly. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. "My name is Justin." He lowered her hand. "And I am sorry I have hurt you—"

"No," she rushed out. "In fact you merely confirned my assumptions."

He frowned. "What do you mean?" Maxine backed away from him. She raised a gloved hand to the neckline of her gown as if to still her trembling posture. For a woman from Earth Maxine appeared rather pale, which he found odd considering they did not have a fake sun like the colonies did. He followed the neckline of her gown towards her shoulder and noticed a very faded scar.

Like that of a bullet wound.

His eyes snapped back to hers but before he could say a word she was already rushing away from him. She weaved her way through the groups of people, managing to avoid contact with anyone while he carelessly bumped into them and excused himself. When he managed to finally get through the hoard of guests he found Maxine—if that was even her real name—standing side by side with Lady Charline—whom he was _certain_—standing by the door.

"Wait!" He shouted but he still had one more gathering of people to push through.

By the time he had made it to the door Maxine and Lady Charline were gone. Still with hope flowing through his veins, Justin rushed outside and found nothing.

They were already gone.

"Maxine…" He shook his head. Turning back to the doors and entering them, he felt all the more stupid for not paying attention to his surroundings like Mandy had warned him. His fists balled and his teeth ground together.

"Maxine for _Maxwell_," he seethed out. "How could I have been so _stupid_?!"

"Justin?" Chris stepped up to him with a frown. "What happened?"

"I think I just saw Uno."

Chris gazed at him. "Here?"

"Yes here!" Justin snapped. He pointed an acousing finger towards the door. "We danced and then she fled as if I had figured out who she really was." He pressed his hands to his forhead. "God how could I have been so _stupid_?!"

He felt something pushing into his chest and looked down. Frowning, he received a leather bounded book with a lock on it. It looked old and tattered.

"My researchers found it."

Justin looked at it. "It's a diary."

"It's Uno's diary." Chris corrected. Justin stared at him in disbelief. "They picked the lock."

"But how," Justin stammered out. "How do you know its Uno's? It could be anybodys."

Chris shook his head. "In all my years of studying since before I met you I never once knew of anyone who could write in that language. And if it's from the ruins of the Opera Garnier, it explains more."

Justin frowned, not following Chris. "What, is her name written in Japanese or something?"

Chris shook his head. "No—Japanese existed back then."

"Then what?"

"It's written in Binary."

* * *

** Now I hope everyone understood what all was happening in this chapter and what all the implied meanings were. If not, ask me your questions in the reviews and I'll answer them in the next update.**


	40. Endless Waltz

- Chapter Forty -

Justin was sitting at his desk, the leather bounded diary placed on the tabletop before him. If beckoned to him and urged him to open it. He wasn't sure whether or not he should pry into her thoughts, but he couldn't deny the fact that he had seen her the night before.

Uno had lived all these years and he had finally found her only to let her slip away.

He reached up and opened the book. The crisp pages were yellow with age and worn with use. He could tell the diary wasn't taken care of that well. The name on the dedication was inked in age old writing that for a moment, he wondered if it were really Uno he saw the night before. The ink was faded, bled into the pages, and smeared in some places.

"Uno Maxwell," he murmured. Her name was in the universal language of English but everything else, he discovered when fluttering through the pages, was in Binary. Chris was right, only Uno knew Binary.

He heaved a sigh. "Well," Justin breathed out, "here we go."

-

_Calendar years: Late 1800s_

"Uno," Erik's scraggedily voice said, "thank you."

Uno fixed the pillows beneath her husband's head. "What for?" She turned to the side table and dipped a rag in the bowl of cool water. "I should be thanking you."

Erik shook his head. "I only did what I had to do."

"Had to do," she snorted. "You _had_ to make me sing opera?"

Erik smiled up at her. "You know you wanted to."

"Can't deny that," she mumbled. "But I still thank you for it."

He shut his eyes and breathed deeply. "You gave me something no body ever wanted to give me before."

"Oh yeah?" Uno dabbed the damp rag on his forehead. "Sex?"

He smirked but shook his head. "Love." Uno shrugged casually. "And marriage."

"I feared falling in love and marrying somebody out of love because that always killed them."

"It did not kill me." Uno pulled back and stared down at him. Erik returned the stare. "I was never killed."

"You're dying as we speak," she reminded him. "You're being killed right now."

"Age," he told her. "I'm dying from age, Uno. Not murder."

"Suicide," she corrected him. "You spent years on morphine and other drugs."

"But I'm not being killed by anybody." He smiled. Uno rolled her eyes and leaned down to give him a kiss.

"Charline will be back later," she said after a couple of minutes of silence. Uno continued wiping the sweat from his body. "She went out to fetch the medicine from the doctor."

"I don't need any medicine," he spat. "I make my own."

"Yes but you're deathly ill and fixing to die."

"You need remind me?"

"Yes."

Erik chuckled. "And my theater claims _I'm_ ghastly."

"You are." She smiled suddenly. "I'm more demonic."

Erik laughed, the warm feeling bubbling up from his chest. After a few chuckles, however, a blood bubble spilled out of his lips and dripped down his chin. Uno frowned and wiped the small river of blood away.

"Take it easy," she murmured. "I don't want you leaving so suddenly."

"You will be fine," he told her. "I know you can survive without me."

Uno smirked. She knew that was far more the truth than he needed to say. Instead of protesting as she really wanted, Uno merely continued wiping the sweat from his body and made his final moments happy.

"But you made me the happiest I have ever been and I thank you for that."

Uno smiled. "You were stubborn enough to handle me."

He chuckled again. "I know."

"And I was stubborn enough to fight everyon's beliefs about you and I together."

Erik nodded. "And you enjoyed it."

Uno grinned. "Every step of the way."

He sighed suddenly. "What will you do now that I am gone?"

Uno lowered the rag and frowned. "I don't know." Erik gazed up at her. "You know I cannot die."

He nodded. "Will you remaining a diva?"

"I will try," she admitted. "And I will have Charline remain the ballerina."

"The theather will go under without my presence." Uno noted the distaste to his voice. "Without me, they will no longer fear straying from the rules or permit you to rule over them as you and I have done for so long."

"I think by that time, Charline and I will go into hiding. Perhaps live out our lives like witches or something, hide from everyone."

"Witches?"

She shrugged. "Well I cannot die,"

"Charline can."

Uno stared at him. "I know… but there are still ways."

He was interested now. "How so?"

"Turok can help me."

His eyes narrowed. "I still loathe him."

"Who doesn't?" Uno looked down at the bowl. "But I'm sure he knows of a way."

Erik closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "I am just happy that I have had the opportunity to be loved and married." Uno continued bathing him gently. "Sing for me?"

She smiled. "I will."

-

_Diaries of Uno Maxwell_

_Entry 31_

I can't stand this place. Everyone here is a fucking maniac. They think rumors are true, they think witchcraft is real, and they claim God exists. I know for a fact there is no such thing as God.

I would have seen him already.

And if I DID see him, I'm certain I would have killed him. Who in their fucking right mind would send a CHILD to live this bloody life?

Either way, I finally accepted that I've been given a second chance. It knocked itself into my thick skull… actually it made me run off the roof of this building.

Turok is considered my great uncle and apparently he possessed me when I hacked into Heero's laptop when I was little. I didn't understand why I saw this blinding yellow light but oh well. Atleast I learned I'm more than just screwed up, but officially fucked up.

I was hearing another voice in my head for the longest time and when I finally turned sixteen the voice had taken its own shape. He looked human but he had big ears, somewhat reddish brown hair, and black beady eyes. I thought he was some creature sent after me, sent back in time to kill me, but… well… turned out he wasn't. Turned out he was right after all.

It's Zero in human form.

It was hard to accept but I finally did. Though after a while I got used to it. He was always there so I was never got bored, I was always able to do things since he kept me alert, and I was still as accurate and perfect as normal. Only with his help, I was invincible.

And he told me he, Epyon, and Tallgeese teamed up to send me back in time so I can try having another chance at a normal life.

I don't care. Life can't be normal for me no matter HOW hard I try. I will always be chased, always be attacked. I already killed Marcella. Tortured the bitch and burned her body. Everyone went off looking for her but she was never found.

Pity.

Now there's a new girl who's taken Marcella's spot. She's just as crude but wiser. I can tell she'll be a harder kill. She's got a backbone, something these girls today lack.

But Marcella needed to die, anyways. She nearly killed Charline. I didn't want to admit it, but I had taken a liking to Charline and actually started to love her as a friend. She reminded me SO much of Theresa that I actually thought, at times, that it was her, instead. I guess Theresa was the reincarnation of Charline.

I found the man who made Ricky a reincarnation. I didn't think it possible, because Ricky was a clone made specifically from Heero and my mother, Sarah, but this man WAS indeed just like him. Actually so much like him, that already, when he took me home the night he found me, he declared his love for me. Ricky did the same thing, but was just more thorough about it.

This man just spat it out.

But life still sucks for me. Some guy in a mask with a cloak keeps chasing after me. He's tried to attack me several times and each time I kick his ass. I guess I've been using his horse to get around and he doesn't like it. Oh fucking well. Let him win me in a fight and then MAYBE I'll cower down to him.

Great, somebody's coming up the stairs. I'm in a stupid dorm right now. I have to keep myself in secret more and more. Marcella tried to steal my diary to pick it to read it one day. Not like it would matter, anyways. She couldn't get in because I rigged it so well. But the same guy who keeps attacking me, I think he's the guy who gave me a rose.

I wish I could die but I learned from the past that I can't. No matter how much I try, it's all in vain. I have to suffer until I can figure something out. But oh well. I can't get pregnant and I know how to kill and not be caught so I can become a rich woman by prostitution and murder—it makes me smile just thinking about it.

But I really hate having to life here.

-

_Calendar years: Late 1800s_

Uno stepped through the mirror door slowly. She turned around, slid it closed, and breathed deeply. It was so hard to go on now that she had gotten used to his presence.

"Uno…" Uno turned around to see Charline standing in front of the bedroom door. "Did he…?" Uno merely nodded. "I'm so sorry."

"I sang to him while he died." She glanced down at the ground. "I watched as his eyes close and he smiled. When I finished singing I bent down to kiss him and I could feel he had been dead the whole time I was singing." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "He stayed smiling the whole time."

"I'm sorry." Charline went to embrace her friend. "I'm so sorry."

Uno returned the gesture and held her tightly. "Don't ever leave me, Charline."

Charline shut her eyes. "I don't plan to."

"I really can't go on alone anymore. I've gone so long like this," she pulled back and gazed into her friend's blue eyes, "that I know I won't be able to make it anymore."

"If there's a way you can help me live by your side, I will be more than honored." Uno smiled weakly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Charline."

-

_After Colony 210_

_Calendar years: 4515_

"Justin?" Vincent looked up from his laptop and frowned. "What's wrong?" Justin shut the door to the office and sat down in one of the metal chairs placed in front of his friend's desk. "What's up? Why bother me when I'm at the office?"

Justin slouched and heaved a sigh. Vincent was still in his military beliefs that his country and people were more important than his family and friends. Justin never understood how somebody could push life away like that when clocked in for work until he read Uno's diary.

"I just finished reading her diary."

"Oh?"

"Four hundred pages of hard work, blood thirst, insanity where she remained the bitch she's always been until near the very end." Justin looked down. "I don't know what happened to her once Erik died and they left. She and Charline took off and went into secrecy and that's all I know."

"So what happened in the diary?"

"It took her _months_ to change. I mean, reading her thoughts was seriously amazing."

Vincent raised a brow. "Amazing? How so?"

"Alright," Justin leaned forward, "we _all_ thought we knew Uno, right? We all thought she was just a cold bitch from the beginning. Though Mandy and I disovered her youth and why she was the bitch we knew her to be, but through her diary I found out why she was afraid to love, why she refused to change, and her weaknesses."

"Love." Justin shook his head. "Love wasn't her weakness? I thought she didn't know how to love."

"She did," Justin corrected. "She was scared because her lover would always end up dead. She feared mistakes, failure, and rejection. She feared that if she didn't obey the owner's rules, she'd be forced to leave. Manipulation was the only thing to break her down."

"Didn't we try that on her?"

"No. The manipulation has to be strong and strict. Erik was never lenient until she gave in."

Vincent scratched the back of his head. "I think Uno's stubbornness played a huge part."

"Well it did when she refused to sing opera but be kicked out of she didn't obey."

"Hah… bet that killed her spirits."

"She wanted to kill him."

"Again, the Uno we know."

Justin looked down. "I want to find her. I know I found her last night but she slipped out of my fingers."

"Should I search the databases?" Vincent asked.

"No. She won't enlist her name, nor will Charline. I just know that they're still in hiding and if Uno knows one thing other than how to fight, it's how to hide."

Vincent shrugged. "Fine. You think she'll come back to you?"

"I hope so."

"What will you do if she does, though?"

"I don't know." Justin looked down. "I haven't thought about it, yet." After a moment, he turned back to Vincent. "How's Mandy been doing?"

"Other than her outburst to you last night?"

Justin sighed. "She told you about that?"

"Heh… yep."

Justin shook his head. "Lovely."

Vincent chuckled then cleared his throat and grew serious again. "She's changed, somehow. I mean, I know she's pregnant but she's keeping some sort of secret from me and I don't know what it is. She won't say anything to me and I tried looking into the security files to find out if she received a tele-call or a hologram visual and it's all erased. I couldn't even retrieve it. I also know she's had a visitor at the mansion the other day, at Chris's mansion—you know, Uno's old place?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah well that lousy computer security system had refused to let me into its databases."

"Strange."

"I'm not so sure about it but I think I'm going to pressure her into telling me the truth. I know a few things about her that she fears I may use again her."

Justin arched a brow. "Vincent… you're black mailing the Queen?"

Vincent laughed loudly. "Not like I haven't done it before. I told her if she got an abortion I'd deny her any more nightly visits."

Justin snorted. "You know Mandy couldn't say no to that."

"Exactly."

Justin stood up. "I came by to tell you to keep your eyes open, really. I'm sure she may come around."

Vincent nodded. "I'll have the guards confine her if I catch her at all."

"Good luck."

Vincent grinned. "You too." Vincent watched Justin leave then saw his secretary step into his office. "Charlie?"

"Sir," she smiled weakly. Her blue eyes glanced down at the floor and her brown hair, still swept up into a bun, shined reflections of the sunlight from the windows.

"What is it?"

She stepped up to the desk and placed a folder down in front of him. "You asked for the files of the ruins?"

"Oh right!" He picked up the folder and examined the cover briefly. "Thank you, Charlie. I hope you and your husband are happy together."

Charlie smile. "Tanek and I couldn't be happier. And my brother Max has decided to move out."

"Max?" Vincent looked up. "You never mentioned him before."

"He's an unusual sort," she said softly. "Talks of war but is scared to fight."

He chuckled. "A follower, I see." She nodded. "Well I'm glad everything's going alright for you. I'm sorry that you're going to be leaving us in two weeks. I'll miss you a lot."

Vincent had hired Charlie a long time ago as his secretary. As soon as he was given the ability he had started up his career, thanks to his military background, Uno's inheritance, and Mandy's support. When he saw Charlie's resume he blew it off but when he saw Charlie come in to question about it, he immediately hired her on the spot. It wasn't because she was so outforward and serious about the job.

She looked so much like Theresa that it kept him on his wits ends about remembering Uno and her sacrifice.

Charlie had married Tanek, she explained, and they had moved to Earth for his career. Though she never mentioned any other family before, he knew she was the only daughter. But a brother out of no where?

Charlie smiled weakly. "I've enjoyed my stay here, Sir. But Tanek has an offer on a colony for a space program and he accepted it."

"I will miss you."

"I am sure you will go on without me."

Vincent looked down. He lowered the folder and leaned back in his chair. "You're a brilliant woman, Charlie. I doubt I'd find anyone just as good."

"I'm sure you will."

He gazed up at her. "Bring in your husband."

Her eyes widened. "W-what?"

Vincent smiled. "Just a friendly visit, don't worry. I want to meet the man who has the honor to marry you."

She bit her lower lip. "I'll ask him but I can't guarantee he will appreciate it. Tanek is not a very friendly person."

Vincent smirked. "I can get around."

Charlie swallowed and nodded in acceptance. "Yes Sir." She backed out of the office and left him alone.

-

As Uno and Charline accepted Erik's death, they learned that Erik was also right. Without his presence, the theater will go under. They had decided to leave and after a long conversation with Madam Giry and Meg, packed up their belongings and fled in the middle of the night, to England.

At first Uno feared they wouldn't make it. She was scared she forgot how to survive on her own since it's been forever. Plus with Charline besides her, she wasn't sure it could be done as well as she once could make it. But then Turok had discussed things with her and decided to aid her in escaping.

He would lock her new self up and turn her back into the cold warrior. Charline had accepted the change and finally, with the old Uno back in power, they were able to survive. To help Charline survive, Turok explained to Uno he would take over her body again, change into his appearance, and make love to her. Uno felt disgusted but Turok explained it was the only way to possess Charline. Of course, Charline didn't argue it one bit and when Turok took her virginity, discovered the joys of real sex.

Throughout time, Charline remained hidden as Uno played the prostitute, gained money, and killed the victim. Uno would go after the richest of men and allow them to take her home, knowing she would walk away with all the money. One man offered her to move in and become his personal 'assistant'. Uno only accepted if Charline could become a servant.

And after years of living like that, in the posh lifestyle and high mannerism, the man had suddenly died from food poisoning and with his signature of everything left to be to Uno in his Will, she and Charline had become the ladies of the household. Charline had come out and Uno had claimed her to be a sister. Since no one ever saw Charline as a servant, they all believed it.

And then when everyone around them had began growing older and Uno and Charline hadn't, they packed up as much as they could, which was everything including the furniture, and moved to America. They had bought an estate in the south and lived as Southern Belle sisters. Charline always refused proposals of courting and Uno always accepted. With thanks to Turok allowing her to become her old warrior self again, she knew how to play the field and not be injured in the process.

When the era's changed once more, she and Charline moved to another location and started all over again. When the America's had hit the nineteen-sixties, Uno had discovered the fun of drugs and other people. She returned to her killing spree for money and managed to sell drugs, help her customers and others around her over dose entirely, and make off with their money when they had died. She found it was the easiest and most secure fashion of murdering a person.

Then as the times changed and the world continued to move on, women were now allowed the rights equally as men, Uno became involved in every war possible. She fought besides men and made them realize that not all women were weak and sensitive. She became the cold-hearted killer once more. Her blood thirst had returned to her.

Space made its appearance around the twenty-fifth century. By that time, Charline had seen many new things and learned about astrology. When Uno brought her to the colonies, the first colony ever created, Charline had grown in love with space. Although she admitted Earth was still more beautiful, Charline had fallen in love with flying around in a space shuttle.

With some of the money Uno had accumulated throughout time since their stay at the manor in England many centuries ago, they had purchased a huge estate on a colony, their very own space shuttle, and became one of the most well known contributors of the colony's political wars.

But when the wars of the colonies and the Earth began, Uno was disturbed because Turok demanded she never fight. She was so desperate for more bloodshed and more war and Turok had grown annoyed with how constantly she tried to flee to a battle that he released her human side and made her normal again.

Immediately, with fresh eyes from when she had married Erik back in the Paris Opera House, Uno had shed tears and realized how much of a change she had gone through and it was all thanks to Erik. She agreed to stay out of the new wars for fear of changing the future. Now that the past was being recorded again, she knew she could change her whole life by just one small mistake.

If she weren't careful, she could wind up having Sarah _not_ go to the colony with friends on a vacation and have that single with Duo, which would result in Uno never being born and Synodd taking over everyone.

Uno and Charline sold their colony estate and their space shuttle, changed their names once again, and moved to another colony. They lived in secrecy with little to show for but a lot in their names. They still owned more than half of their inheritance from the opera house and on but kept it all hidden in storage, paid for by a particular Lord Max and Lady Charlie for their future children.

When the years progressed and Uno discovered the age of OZ and the Romefellar Foundation, they fled to Earth to escape possible destruction in space. Uno became infatuated in the wars of her father and the actions Duo had pulled. When the main cannon of Libra, a space shuttle bred for war, had exploded and fired upon Earth, she discovered the entire planet had shaken. Charline was terrified and Turok was watching Uno very closely.

Uno's eyes had flickered, he realized, each time the occurrences of the wars had hit her. The attack on Earth had reminded her that it was _that_ very explosion that had separated her from her mother. Sarah had shielded Uno's body from the explosion as the outbursts of the attack and the ring of fire surrounding it burned into her skin. Uno was thrown into a nearby ally and had never seen her mother since.

It was then that Uno decided she would hunt down her younger self and watch over the child. Charline accepted the fact that she would be alone until Uno would come back.

She knew Uno needed to do this alone.

Uno stayed in the shadows and watched over her younger self. If the child came close to getting hit by cars she would jump out of the shadows and save her then flee the moment the little girl looked up. If the little girl was hungry Uno would steal something and put it in a place she knew the girl would come across. And each time she did this, she clearly remembered her own youth when somebody saved her or when she found misplaced food.

She never realized she was literally doing it to herself.

And then she saw Duo take her in off the streets and smiled. Tears filled her eyes and Uno felt the heart-warming feeling in her chest once again. She missed Duo so much but she wouldn't be able to see him ever again unless in the shadows like this.

_I'm going to keep my eyes on him at _all_ times, though._

As little Uno grew up spoiled but trained, she had been tempted to save the little girl from the fate she knew she would be destined to live. Uno knew the little girl would change over time and wanted to save her, to save herself. But at the same time, knew she couldn't. If she did one small thing wrong, she could jeaprodize everything in the future.

Theresa had come into the little girl's life and soon after Ricky and Uno watched as the little girl had began beging happier than ever before. Theresa _did_ have a striking resemblance to Charline and even acted the same ways. Uno figured Charline was the same way when she was younger. Ricky was so much like the man she killed back in the eighteen-hundreds on the night she needed money and prostituted. She was still wondrous about how Ricky could have been a reincarnation when he was scientifically created.

_It had to be all through Heero. Heero was the only human in the combination._

Uno stayed in the bushes every day when she watched over herself. She made it a religion to get up early and go to bed late, certain to keep her every waking moment's attention on the little girl. She watched her younger self and Theresa go to school every morning. She watched the three of them play around together. She watched her younger self and Ricky get closer to one another.

She could see how everyone believed they would wind up together, since they were always together. But now, with her eyes open, Uno discovered Ricky was simply getting closer to his target.

Then one day, while the two little girls were going to school, they were talking about random things. Little Uno had been saying things and walking with her shoes unlaced for half the distance. Theresa had been talking about random things. She saw something in the bushes and realized what it was. With great effort, Uno merely bit her tongue and braced for the attack. Then, without another minute to spare, little Uno bent down to tie her laces and the bullet had fired. Uno watched, for the second time in her life, as Theresa was shot and killed. She curled up in a ball in the tall grass and sobbed. The little girl fled back home Uno saw a figure clad in black leap onto a motor bike and speed off.

She knew it was Ricky by the scar on his right wrist.

Over time Uno watched the little girl grow older and wiser. She became more mature and started dating Ricky rather than just being good friends. And like the little girl, Uno cried over her lost friend.

And then the fateful night that had changed Uno's life forever.

She was on a date with Ricky and he had pulled her into the alley. He had held her at gun point and explained himself. The little girl stood her ground and pressed him to pull the trigger. Uno had secretly hoped he would so she wouldn't be forced to live as she had but like the last time, she had to watch Ricky curse her for their love and kill himself.

And like the last time, she wanted to die from the pain in her heart.

It wasn't long until Synodd had come for them. Uno watched closely the following weeks as everyone began preparing for war until one night she watched the little girl play the piano and sing. She saw the little girl trying not to cry during it and noticed Heero had realized something was wrong. At the same time, she discovered it, herself.

Appearantly, being bred for war, she and Heero could tell when something terrible was happening. It was then Duo had explained that everyone had been killed. And several nights later, Uno stayed in the shadows and watched as soldiers of Synodd broke into the mansion and attacked everyone. She witnessed her family fighting then fleeing and Duo trying to get upstairs to the little girl. However, he wasn't able and was literally dragged away screaming by Heero. The van sped off just as the little girl had leaped down the staircase and finished off the fight.

Then without a second thought, watched as the little girl accepted the mission sent to Heero and left the mansion in bloodshed.

That was the day Uno discovered her life had truly began and it had marked the first day of her bloodthirsty life. Everything that happened to the little girl, from then on, she was watching happen over again in both sets of eyes. She watched the little girl go through intense training and felt all the pain once more. She watched as the little girl came close to dying and felt ready to faint again. She witnessed the little girl getting raped for the first time and grew angry.

Then when the little girl had been told to pick up and deliver her new teammates, Uno had felt annoyed at having to work on a team even though she wasn't that little girl anymore. She had watched Justin and Vincent talk and Chris try to fit in. She had watched as Vincent constantly hit on Mandy and knew the two of them would end up together. Secretly, Uno prayed Chris would grow up but knew that he wouldn't grow up until the very end.

And then she discovered that Synodd had returned Ricky and decided to abandon her younger self and track him down. She didn't plan on killing Ricky, but merely wanted to talk to him.

Uno had gone to the building and snuck inside. Ricky was in training again and she waited in the shadows of his room until he returned. When he did, she watched as he cautiously moved around his room until he withdrew a gun and aimed it right at her face.

"Come out of the shadows," he said darkly. "Face me."

Uno swallowed hard but stepped out of the shadows anyways. Ricky's face paled immediately and he lowered the gun.

"What the fuck," he murmured. "Uno."

"Not the same," she said softly.

Ricky frowned. "I don't get it. How did you get in here?" His hand gripped tighter on the handle of the gun and his finger remained on the trigger. He raised the gun again and aimed it at her face. "I should kill you now."

She looked down. "Wrong Uno."

"What?"

"It's the wrong Uno," she said softly. "I'm not the one you're sent to kill." The hammer pulled back and she faced him sadly. "Please Ricky, just listen to me."

"Speak your words, damn it. I have a tight schedule to keep."

Uno nodded. "You tried to kill me once before and shot yourself."

"I remember," he said with disgust while pointing to the scar on the side of his head. "I've fallen in love with you."

She smiled weakly. "I love you too, Ricky."

"So go to Hell."

"_Wait!_" He paused. "Just wait, _please_."

Ricky frowned. "Why?"

"Because you've tried to kill me _again_ and I still didn't die."

"I only tried once."

"You'll try again," she explained. "A teammate will break in to rescue me and you'll end up throwing me out of a window."

Ricky smirked. "Nice idea. Actually," he lowered the gun, "I like that much better than attempting to shoot you."

Uno continued. "I don't know what happened from that but I guessed that he killed you."

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen then."

"I survived, though. Duo found me and I survived."

"I won't let that happen, either."

Uno looked down. "I wound up defeating everyone later on when I watched Duo get killed and die in my arms. Everyone I ever loved had to die." She stared up at him. "You killed Theresa, yourself, Duo died for me—everyone who loves me ever died."

"I won't die again."

Uno paused. "You still love me?"

Ricky stared at her and then after several long seconds of silence, released the hammer of the gun and lowered it. "Yes," he said suddenly. "I still do."

"I will wind up taking down the entire headquarters and being sent into the distant past. From there, I will change and become the old Uno I was when we first met. But since I couldn't die, I will continue to live on." Ricky frowned at her. "And here I am. I needed to talk to you one final time."

"You're serious," he said softly. "Aren't you?"

"Yes."

Ricky tossed the gun to the side of the room and inspected Uno. "I can tell you've changed since I examined the photos taken of you today," he paused. "Well, of the _other_ you."

Uno smiled weakly. "You've changed, too."

"So why come looking for me?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"About?" Ricky stepped around her and headed towards his dresser. He removed his shirt and flung it to the side of the room. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

Uno turned to him. "I've missed you all this time."

"Yeah?" He rummaged through one of the drawers for another shirt. "Funny how you had when you know how much I've been trying to kill you."

"Only because you've been bred to do that." She neared him from behind and Ricky lowered his hands. "If Synodd didn't make you kill me, admit it, you would have kept me."

"Yeah," he said dryly. "I'd have asked to have you join our side."

Uno frowned. "Or my side."

Ricky looked down. "Your side believs in peace and the public can't fight on their own," he reminded her. "No matter how much you tell them to become independent, they refuse to."

Uno wrapped her arms around his waist and rested the side of her face on his back. Ricky breathed deeply and wrapped his arms over hers.

"Admit it… you miss me."

"I can't deny it," he said softly. "I love you."

She shut her eyes and smiled. "I always wished that when we were little, you would have come clean and come to us. I'm sure Heero would have helped to hide you."

Ricky turned around and stared down into her eyes. Uno noticed how ripped his body was and how packed with muscles he looked that she couldn't tear her eyes away. Ricky had grown so much and trained so much.

"Uno," he murmured. She gazed up into his eyes with hope. "It's behind us, now."

"I know but…"

"Stop letting it bother you like this." He lifted her chin. "Let it go."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I will always love you."

"Uno—"

"You and I are so perfect that it's next to impossible to find somebody who is able to compete against us. And you know I'm right, Ricky. You know it's because we have the same mother."

He frowned and backed away from her. "How did you know?"

"I told you," she reminded him. "I survived your attack and later came to blow up the building. Before I did, I found your father, Daniel, and learned that you were scientifically created from Sarah and Heero. And Ricky… Sarah was a descendant of one of Blassimeer's creatures, which is why you and I are so perfect. Morris, her father… _our_ grandfather… was a machine."

Ricky looked away in thought. "Daniel refused to ever tell me that," he said sourly. "But it _does_ make sense."

She backed away from him and breathed deeply. "I have to go now."

Ricky frowned at her. "What?"

"I came to tell you these things and to find out if you still loved me when you tried to kill me again."

"Uno wait," he rushed out. Uno noticed he looked desperate. "Please don't go."

"What?"

"For me," he held out a hand. "Please… stay with me tonight."

Uno frowned. "You really believe me?" Her eyes watered with hope. "That I've lived from so much?"

"I can tell because the evidence is on your face." He looked at her glistening eyes and smiled weakly. "And your eyes."

Her tears fell steadily. "Ricky," she said breathlessly.

Ricky cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. After several seconds, he went to her ear and murmured, "I have always loved you."

The following morning, while Ricky was still asleep, Uno had dressed and fled the room. She wished she could flee with Ricky into seclusion but she had a job to do. She had to return to the shadows and watch her world replay all around her.

And just like she warned him, Ricky had thrown her out of a window and Justin had killed him. But instead of hitting ground and dying, Uno watched her body land in the bayou and Duo leap in, out from no where, after it.

Her younger self woke up in her father's care once again and for the next few days healed and stayed in secret from the battle field. And then when Duo had told her the truth about her being his real daughter and not just adopted, she watched the younger Uno punch him and leave.

Duo was devastated and heart broke and Uno was in pain just watching him.

She waited several hours before knocking on the door again.

"Uno?" Heero's eyes widened when he opened the door and then he frowned when he noticed her appearance was different than before and her eyes weren't as cold. "You're not Uno."

"I am," she admitted. "But I need to talk to you. To _all_ of you."

Heero narrowed his eyes. "Prove you are Uno."

Uno smirked. "Would you rather I threaten to kill you now that I know where you're hiding?"

Heero heaved a sigh. "You're her, alright," he grumbled. He moved aside to allow her entry then eyed her carefully. "But you look different."

"I'll explain why if you let me."

He motioned her into the living room then called out to everyone. Uno watched as Trowa, Quatre, and Duo rushed into the room and freeze. Uno wanted to cry so badly, having not seen them this closely in so long and not being able to talk to them until now. The last time she had ever seen them, they were dying all around her. The last time she was this close to them, she had shunned them all down.

The little girl should have not taken it for granted as she just had, Uno realized.

"I'm so sorry," she said suddenly. Uno stared at Uno and noticed his swollen eye. "But I need to tell you all something."

"You—"

"Before you say anything," she told Duo, "I need to tell you that I'm not the same Uno who just left you. I did that, yes, but long ago."

Duo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I think she finally went mad," Trowa muttered. "Her machine was known to make people insane to begin with."

Uno smirked. "I never figured you'd grown a sense of humor, Trowa."

"Please," Quatre motioned to everyone. "Let's all sit down."

Everyone sat down and Uno took a seat in one of the chairs. She began telling them how she finished the war and was sent to the eighteen-hundred, where she continued to live and survive. She explained how she had changed over time, found a friend who was exactly like Theresa, became a diva and sang opera. She married he owner, the man who also was her trainer in opera, then when he died, fled with Charline. Uno explained everything about what she did and about who Turok was.

Heero was infatuated with the information about Turok. The program, after all, had become his best friend in the wars.

At the end of it all, Uno admitted she was sorry for ever hitting Duo and wished none of it had happened.

"But there's one thing I need to tell you," she said softly. She avoided eye contact, knowing what it would do.

"What is it?" Quatre leaned in closer. "What is it, Uno?"

"Uno will die tonight if you don't help her." She looked up at Duo's eyes and saw the fear there. "She'll go to headquarters and make it in alright, kill Daniel, and then escape. But upon escape, the alarms will ring and she'll be spotted."

"How did _you_ survive?" She turned to Trowa. "How did _you_ get out?"

"You guys came to help me." She faced Heero. "But I know that if you hadn't, I wouldn't be here today." She turned back to Duo. "So please… in about five to six hours, you need to go to the Headquarters of Synodd and help her."

"We will." Duo stood up and went to his daughter. "But damn it, Uno." She stood up and embraced him quickly. "God I'm proud of you."

Uno shut her eyes and smiled. The tears fell quickly and she tightened her hold on him.

"I love you, Duo," she murmured. Then, with a whisper, "Dad."

Duo smiled and the tears fell from his eyes, as well.

She left soon after and never looked back. Uno realized that it was _her_ own self that had protected her own self. If she had never sent Duo to protect her younger self, she would have died that day instead of being sent into the past.

From the distance, Uno watched the war come to an end and her machine take out the headquarters. With the huge explosion, she saw the destruction finish and collapse to the ground below and wished a silent prayer to herself in the past.

_Take care of me, Erik._

Uno then returned to Charline after these years and discussed her plans. She would go to Mandy and get Turok released. Turok was excited he'd become human again and Charline was excited that she would finally have a living Turok.

Uno was just excited to get him out of her mind for once.

But Uno waited another year until she finally came out of the shadows. She hacked into Queen Mandy's computer like nothing.

_God Vincent and Justin _still_ haven't created well bred machinery for her! What is this? I've been gone this long and they still are slacking off?_ She paused and realized something. _Well… it's only been a single year for them and I've had much more extensive training._

She sent a tele-noted message on Mandy's machine, saying to go to the Winner Mansion at a certain time the next day and not to let anyone know. Mandy replied, demanding the person to explain themselves, but all Uno said was, "Damn girl, you've certainly taken up my role, haven't you?"

The next day, Uno went to the mansion and gazed up at the building with longing. She hasn't been inside for so long that she feared the memories could kill her if they came back all at once.

"Uno?" Mandy squeaked out when she opened the front door. "Oh my God it's _you_!"

"Mandy." Uno smiled. She embraced the new queen like old friends. "You've grown."

"Damn girl." Mandy pulled back. "Does Justin know you're still around? How did you escape the blast? Uno—you're so different—you've changed!"

Uno chuckled and held up her hands. "One at a time, please. I need to talk to you and do something here."

Mandy let her in. "Chris is here, in the office, though." Uno face her. "He and his wife own this house and the rest of us had moved out."

"Wife?"

"Uno?"

Uno looked down the hall to see Sarah, an old friend from her short time in school. "Sarah?"

Sarah ran down the hall and practically tackled Uno. "Oh my goodness everyone's missed you and we all thought you were dead yet some of us knew you wouldn't die and some of us didn't think you _could_ die and—oh I just missed you!!!" She squeezed Uno tightly.

Uno laughed and hugged back. "Good to see you too."

"Uno!" Uno looked up and saw Chris with a child in his arms. "You're back."

Uno smiled. She pushed Sarah off her some and hugged her old teammate. The child in his arms was clearly his and Sarah's.

"Don't tell anyone, though."

Mandy frowned. "Why not?"

"I'm only here for one thing."

Mandy nodded. "You said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Alone."

She nodded. "Alright. Sorry Chris."

Chris smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around his wife's back. "It's alright. At least I'll get to rattle on Justin and Vincent and tell them I've seen you."

Uno smiled weakly. "He has. Vincent's secretary is Chariline, my best friend."

Mandy frowned. "You mean Charlie?"

Uno chuckled. "Charlie, Lady Charline, Cara, Kaira, and even Clara."

Sarah smiled. "Does she forget her names at all?"

"I don't blame her," Uno retorted. "I do to. Max, Maxine, Maxwell, and many many more."

Mandy laughed. "You've changed _so_ much, Uno."

Chris nodded. "I agree."

Sarah shrugged. "I see no difference but that's because I never saw you after school."

Uno smiled warmly then glanced at Mandy. "Shall we?"

Mandy smiled and excused herself and Uno from Chris and Sarah. She followed Uno through the mansion into the security room then watched as Uno began typing into the machine.

"What are you doing?"

Uno ignored her. "What happened since I've left?"

"You mean when we left?"

Uno paused. "Since my time travel."

Mandy frowned. "You…?"

Uno sighed and stepped away from the computer. She faced Mandy with a seriousness she knew Mandy could read. "You all aren't mistaken, after my explosion I _did_ time travel into the eighteen hundreds. _But_, since I can't die, I survived all these years."

"You're the same Uno?"

"There's two of me if I were to see myself again," Uno explained. "It's confusing."

"Will you please explain?"

Uno nodded and explained the entire story. When she was finished, Mandy was left gaping.

Uno smirked. "See why I wish to stay in secret still?" Still in silence, Mandy nodded.

Uno continued her work on the computer then headed towards the door leading into the Technology department. Silently, Mandy followed behind. Uno opened up a closet door and hit a few buttons on the keypad on the wall and the back wall slid open into a staircase down beneath. Mandy stared in amazement and followed Uno down.

"What's going on, Uno? How did you know about this?"

"I didn't," Uno admitted. "I'm being told where to go and what to do."

"Turok?"

Uno nodded. She came to another computer on a platform where a large gaping black hole stood out in front and below. She was on a platform being suspended by something. She typed a few things into the machine and something powered up. A crane from above moved and lowered into the black shadow. When he returned, it was carrying a large glass tube.

"This is similar to the stuff Vincent said he's found beneath Synodd."

Uno nodded. "Creatures who were created and put to sleep were put in these."

The crane set the tube on the platform and returned to the black shadow. Uno stepped up to the tube and opened the door. A sleeping form of the same Turok stood in front of her but this Turok was real. His eyes opened and immediately he glared down at her.

"Who are you?" His voice was serious and Uno learned over time that when Turok sounded this serious, he meant death.

"Uno," she explained. "Morris's granddaughter."

Turok's eyes narrowed and he examined her. "Where is Morris?"

"Another enemy killed him. They are called Synodd. They were being ran by Daniel Tanners—"

"I _knew_ that bastard was a traitor from the very fucking start!" Turok pushed her to the side and stepped out of the tube. "It was _him_ who put me in here in the beginning!" He noticed Mandy and paused. "Who's the sex toy?"

Mandy gasped. Uno frowned. She didn't recall Turok having this attitude.

"I'm no sex toy!" Mandy snapped back. "I'm Queen—"

"Good for you," Turok cut in. "But I'm fucking horny as hell."

"Zero," Uno whispered. Turok froze and turned to Uno.

"What did you just say?"

Uno eyes flickered with determination and she raised her chin. Her shoulders squared back and she stared back at him.

"Zero is your name," she said strongly. "I know this because I know everything about you. But what _you_ don't know is that _I'm_ the sex slave here and I'm a good fuck."

Turok frowned. "You want me to fuck you?"

She smirked. "But I don't do anything without a kiss to start."

Turok nodded. "Fine by me." He neared her. "But don't let Morris have my ass."

Uno waited and when Turok kissed her, allowed the Turok in her brain take over. The creature standing before her froze and his eyes snapped open. Uno stared up into his eyes and watched as his flickered several colors before returning to black. When she broke away from the kiss, she felt awkward and suddenly alone.

The creature stumbled back a few feet and shook his head. "Damn it," he murmured. "I didn't think you'd ever kiss me with electricity flowing through your veins, Uno." He licked the roof of his mouth several times before turning back to her. "Charline doesn't kiss like that."

Uno gasped. "Turok! You're out of my head!"

"Thank God."

Uno ran and jumped into his arms. "I'm so happy now!"

"So am I," he mused.

"I can live without having you annoy me and make me horny for no reason!"

He frowned. "I'll still annoy you anyways but making you horny—I never tried."

Uno pulled back and smiled genuinely. "Charline will be pleased."

"Good because now I _really_ want to fuck her."

"Um…" Turok and Uno turned to Mandy. "This is Turok?"

"The real Turok," Uno explained. "He's no longer in my brain."

"And at the same time," Turok turned to Uno, "you're more human than machine now."

Uno frowned at him. "What?"

"Only a quarter of your genes were machine, because of Morris."

"Yes."

"The possession from the laptop when you were little was me. But since I am no longer in you system, you are no longer the cold warrior and you can never again be that cold warrior."

Uno smiled weakly. "I'm going to miss you."

Turok nodded. "I'm going to miss running my _own_ machine for a change. Everyone loved running me that when I ran you, it was fun. No wonder you people loved running machines so much."

She smirked. "Thank a lot."

"Should I tell Justin?" Mandy asked Uno. "About you?"

"No." Uno stepped up to her. "I'll come to him when I'm ready."

Mandy smiled. "You're going to leave, aren't you?"

Uno nodded. "I have nothing left. You've taken over quite well. You, Vincent, and Chris have taken on my roles better than I'm sure I could have,"

Mandy smiled and embraced Uno one last time. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

"Take care of Justin," she murmured. "He's been devastated since you left."

Charline was ecstatic Turok was human now. The moment Uno returned to the apartment, Charline had come out complaining how she was having a really indepth conversation with him when he just suddenly disappeared. But when she saw him stepping through the doors, looking all the more real, she actually passed out. Turok laughed and explained how he was going to take care of her so he could have his way with her later that night.

Uno asked if he could warn her before he began so she could go to a hotel room.

She waited several more days before making herself known to Justin. She stayed in the shadows and watched him closely. He was trying so hard to find ways to time travel and bring her back home that she was actually feeling sorry for him. When Mandy decided to throw a ball for everyone she and Charline had attended. Turok stayed home to stay out of their plans. But Uno had danced with Justin and learned he had truly fallen in love with her. She knew he was fixing to discover her so she fled with Charline and went home.

Now she was trailing behind him on the streets and was actually nervous about confronting him.

_But it _has_ to be done._

"Justin," she called out suddenly.

Justin spun around and froze. Uno noticed his face had paled and his eyes had widened. She stepped up to him and breathed deeply. He was staring at her as if he were imagining things.

"I'm real," she told him, as if reading his thoughts. "You're not imagining things."

"Uno?" His voice creaked. "You're alive?"

"Still," she admitted. "I survived all these years."

"Time travel…" Uno nodded. "You really survived from the eighteen hundreds?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God."

"I've seen it all." He breathed deeply. Uno smiled warmly. "And I want to tell you how much I've missed you."

He tried to smile but it came out all weird. Uno chuckled and wrapped her arms around him. It took Justin several seconds before it kicked into him that she were, indeed, real. He hugged her tightly and inhaled her scent.

"Oh my God Uno—I've missed you so much."

"I know," she said with humor. "I've seen it."

He pulled back and frowned. "You have?"

"I've been watching you all this time."

"Why didn't you come to me, then?"

"I was waiting for the right moment," she explained. "I couldn't just come out of nowhere."

"You did today."

Uno shook her head. "I had things that had to be done, first, too."

Justin smiled and cupped her face. "Are you here to stay?" Uno read the hope in his eyes and hear the plea in his voice.

"With you," she admitted. Justin smiled and leaned in to kiss her. When she was able to break away just an inch, she added in, "for you."

"Uno," he groaned.

"Marry me." Uno gazed up into his eyes. "Be my second husband, Justin." Justin stared at her in shock. "I loved Erik, yes, and I admit I loved Ricky, but I also love you and I'm not scared of it anymore."

He swallowed hard. "You mean it?" Uno nodded. "I do."

"Thank God," Justin breathed out. "Because I do, too."

She smiled and kissed him again. After that moment, Charline and Uno decided to keep in contact but go their separate ways. Charline married Turok and returned to the colonies. Turok worked with the colony military and Charline became an athome wife. Uno and Justin left the territory and move to the American territory. Over time, another war came and went and during it all, Uno never once gave a thought about fighting in it.

She was finally able to live her life like a normal human being.

"Justin?" Uno looked up from his chest. "I'm wondering something."

"Hm?" Justin opened his eyes. "Baby, it's four in the morning."

Uno smirked. "Yes and you've kept us awake until ten minutes ago."

He stared at her. "You helped."

"But… I have a question."

Justin sighed loudly. "What is it, woman?"

"Do you think there's a way to remove my immune enhancements?"

He frowned. "What?"

"I can't die nor have children."

"Mandy's tubes healed," he told her. "She had children with Vincent."

"I remember," Uno said dryly. "It was all over the news."

"But about you living forever?" She nodded. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

She smiled. "You think we can find another wise doctor who can help?"

Justin kissed her forehead. "I'm sure we can."

_Fin_

Date: July 16, 2005 – March 17, 2007  
Length: 805 Pages (Leisure Book size)  
Duo's Child Three: Delusions of Perfection

_"History is much like an endless waltz. The three beats of war, peace, and revolution continue on forever." - **Mariemaia Khushrenada (Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz)**_

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_**AN: **_Alright everyone… Duo's Child is officially over! I was thinking about extending it once again to a Duo's Child 4 but I decided against it. However, since Uno is so real and so alive and if you love her so much, you can read about her in another story! With Theresa/Charline and Ricky/Erik, you can see Uno in Bullet Tears, an entirely new story.

Summary: Delivered from 1996 & a world of modern technology, Raoul finds himself in the future remains of America after WW3 & Nuclear Explosions. With his new friends Uno, Ricky, & Theresa, he struggles to survive amongst the blood thirst and desperation AU/AR

Disclaimer: I know Raul is a PotO character but I used his name (and some of his character) to portray him. Don't worry, if you like Turok, you see Turok later on, becoming lovers with Charline again. Yes, you will actually get to see that!

Story link: **Adultfanfiction . net** Remove the spaces and then member search for "KittyFelone MistressAlleycat" (keep the space between both names). The story is called Bullet Tears. Yes, it was posted here on another account and no it will not be continued on this other account on this site. Please help me keep Bullet Tears alive. Uno is so my favorite character and I really don't want to see her die.


	41. Duo's Child 4: History's Future

Alright, I want everyone to know that I have decided to carry this on into a 4th segment. But, know that there will be a difference. This final installment will have very little to do with the rest of the series. It is simply about our beloved Uno trying to survive in the world after all wars have ended. I am writing it with few ties to the series as possible because I do not want the new readers for this one to freak out and have to read the others so that they can understand. I am also writing this storyline out with a very different plotline. Yes, it connects so that it makes sense, but it's nothing to do with Gundam Wing or Phantom of the Opera. I have been thinking about making a new story for her for quite some time and I've played way too much Tomb Raider Anniversary lately... so... yeah. (sweatdrop)

Also, unless you are checking on my bio page to see my announcements or unless you have received a review reply from me pertaining to said announcements, know that you can find me through Myspace or Facebook (search Kitty Felone). That's right, I have a Facebook account now so go and look for me there. Whether it's Facebook, Myspace, or Instant Messaging, be sure to tell me who you are so I know you're not just some random crazy person. Be sure to tell me you're one of my minions and there we go!:D

If you want to instant message me, find me with the screen name of AFluffyKitty.

If you're still interested in reading the 4th installment to Duo's Child, be sure to locate me at adultfanfiction . net --remove the spaces (search Kitty Felone). It should be posted as an original. If you are unable to get to that site, let me know. I'll give you another way to view it.

If you need to find any links of my stuff or any way to find me, everything is on my bio page. You should give it a looksie, it's changed.

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**DC4: History's Future**  
_Kitty Felone  
_June 19, 2008  
Disclaimer: I own Uno Maxwell and Justin Stevens, their history, and their stories. Any and all semblance of them or their lives is specifically coincidental and cannot be blamed whatsoever.

**History's Future  
**_Chapter One_  
Justin scanned the article one final time before collapsing back into the chair. He dropped the paper on the desk and leaned back, causing the springs to creak. He stared at the article, the picture of Mt. Zoolar centered amid the base of the large paragraph, and groaned. He felt himself slouching even more before closing his eyes.

Of all the jobs Uno had to accept.

He opened his eyes and eyed the picture again, hoping that it would change and he was just imagining things.

Nope.

Mt. Zoolar remained in the center of a snowy landscape, by far the highest mountain discovered by mankind as of yet. Earth's atmosphere wouldn't be able to sustain a mountain whose height was three times the height of Mt. Everest. It was why Mt. Everest was located on Earth and Mt. Zoolar was located on the darkest regions of Pluto. Many people have gone to Pluto in attempts to climb the great mountain and discover its secrets. Few have managed to climb a quarter up the mountain before dying whereas many others simply died days after reaching the planet. Only one man was believed to have reached the top of Mt. Zoolar, but that was because nobody heard of him since he last made contact upon reaching the top. All these people died trying to discover the great mountain's secrets and now his wife was planning on giving it a try all because some idiot believed there were treasures up there.

Treasures!

The mountain stood white against a black sky. Pluto, a planet once believed to be made entirely of ice, was now home to many tourist attractions. Somewhere in the early forty-second century, mankind had reached the limits of the galaxy much easier than ever before and landed on Pluto. Unlike Mercury, Venus, or Titan, Pluto promised an amazing feature. They had believed the other planets would sustain life as the moon had. However, with Mercury's high temperature, Venus's sulfuric acid –like atmosphere, and Titan's counter-active radio waves, they have all been proved wrong.

Pluto, on the other hand, promised nothing but a frozen future until further investigation lead to discover it held enormous possibility for tourist attraction, if nothing else. The government had declared the entire planet a tourist spot and had it set out for attractions. Not long after, Pluto became livid with people from Earth and the space colonies, attracted to its icy atmosphere, black skies, and gothic architecture. For some odd reason, the government decided to build gothic structures throughout the entire planet. Now Pluto was cold, dark, _and_ gothic.

It became a huge attraction to those living in the morbid lifestyle of Paganism, Satanists, and the likes.

Justin whimpered softly at the article. He finally got Uno to agree to marry him not even two years ago and now she was off to get herself killed? It was bad enough he had come close to losing her several times while they were comrades in the war, but this?

_This is too much._ Justin shut his eyes. _Uno won't be able to do this._

Uno Maxwell: born in war, bred for war, built for war. There was nothing extra to sum his wife up. That explained everything. She had been born when the colonies first declared war on Earth. She was raised by one of the very fighters who defended the planet until the very end. She was trained by every remaining soul who ever had connections to the war. After they all died, she fought the war that followed and was certain she had ended it.

Uno Maxwell was a fighter; not a paleontologist, damn it!

Standing from the chair and snatching the paper off the desk, Justin made haste to exit the office and locate his wife. He scanned the enormous living room, noticed several books lying scattered about the center of the floor, some left open on the couch and tables, and a pad paper with her notes face-up on a closed laptop. It was apparent she had finished her notes. Now he just needed to locate her.

He stepped further into the room and surveyed the area. The first floor was empty. The balconies of the second floor were empty, as well. He thought briefly about calling her cell phone but decided against it. He knew his wife too well. When Uno got heavily interested in something she was hard to distract.

Justin sighed. Purchasing the three hundred acres and building a large mansion upon it all had turned out to be a mistake, after all. Normally, he knew where he could locate his wife if she disappeared on him. If she didn't pick up her phone it was because she didn't hear it over her music from the music room, was in a bathroom, or asleep. All other times he'd call she would pick up. Justin had a strong hunch she wouldn't pick up the phone if he called.

_Might as well try, though._

Chewing the inside of his cheek with a thought, he hefted his phone out of his back pocket and dialed her number. Several rings passed before he finally connected with her.

A short grunt before a rushed and very much out of breath, "Hello?"

"Uno?"

"Yeah?"

Justin frowned. "Why are you out of breath?"

Uno groaned briefly. "I'm not." Another grunt and then, "What's up?"

He glanced around the room again, curious as to what she was up to. "Where are you?"

"Hanging off a ledge twenty-five yards from the ground," she grunted.

_The gymnasium,_ Justin discovered.

"Why? What's up?"

_She's training for her upcoming expedition,_ he mused bitterly.

Justin sighed in the phone. "Never mind." He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket. Now that he knew where to find her, he started in that direction.

After a series of several doors and hallways, not to mention an awfully deep staircase that extended past two basement levels, he finally reached the small courtyard that connected him to two exterior gates and the gymnasium. The glass doors were open, the building was lit up, and the air conditioning was powered to full blast, no doubt preparing her for the semi-cold temperatures of Pluto's ice-covered body.

Semi-cold? Yeah, right.

He found her hanging off a steep ledge much higher than twenty-five yards from the ground. The height of the gym was sixty yards, at most. She was damn well close to the ceiling.

He felt a cramp in his gut. If she were to slip…

He watched in terror as Uno leapt from the crevice she recently hung from, flew through the air, and reach for the rope hanging from a ceiling beam. She slid down the rope a few feet then began swinging in mid air until she released the rope and landed on a platform. Justin leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched in horror as his wife acted like Lara Croft. When she was safely on a lower platform and surrounded by metal banister, he spoke up.

"So I take it you've changed your name to Lara Croft, instead?"

Uno jumped spun around. Did she not expect him to come looking for her? Even after he had tricked her into telling him her location? He examined at her chosen outfit with a smirk. She had picked a black swimsuit and black boots. She looked exactly like Lara Croft, except she was in black instead of blue and brown.

"So Lara, tell me," he began. "Where's your next expedition?"

Uno propped her fists on her hips and gazed down at him with curiosity. "Do I really look that close to her?" Justin only stared back. "I had thought I picked out a better look." She looked down at herself. "Something more practical."

"Uno," Justin said with exhaust. "Seriously baby. Do you honestly think I'll let you go through with this?"

"You didn't fight me so badly all last week when I did my research," she said pointedly. "Why start doing it now?"

"For starters, I didn't think you were all that serious." He stepped further into the room and stared up at her. "And secondly, I am _not_ losing my wife after just being married a year and a half."

He caught a glimpse of her blush before she attempted to hide her face. Uno was trained in every aspect a human could possibly be trained for. She was a brilliant woman, a computer genius, a skilled combat fighter, an excellent marksman, and a wonderful musician with a beautiful singing voice. She was perfect in everything except for something domesticated.

Unfortunately, that included love.

"Please Uno." He frowned. "Just come down here and let's talk this over." She turned back around and stared down at him. "Please?"

Uno's brows pinched together and her lips pursed together. Finally, she nodded and heaved a sigh.

"Alright," she breathed out. "We'll talk it over first."

_First,_ he mused. _She still won't change her mind._

Uno jumped off the platform and grasped a bar that extended out from the wall. Somewhere in her youth, Justin assumed, Uno had been given gymnastic training. Perhaps it was one of the only girly forms of training she had endured? Well, not counting ballet.

He was speechless when he learned she knew ballet, as well.

She flew through the air towards another bar, twirled around that one for a moment before leaping to another, then at last, landed several feel away on the gym mats. Justin stepped onto the mats and immediately wrapped his arms around her. He drew her close to his body and breathed a deep sigh of relief, absorbing her sweaty aroma of strawberries and cream lotion.

Uno chuckled and hugged him back. In all the years they have known each other, Justin had never been able to get Uno to understand the meanings of love and what it entailed. She often considered his protectiveness a bothersome and laughed when he panicked over her dangerous games.

"Uno, please," he whispered into her ear. "You're not immortal anymore. You _can_ die, now that we got things settled."

They had spent months searching for a bioengineering doctor who could turn around the process of immortality she had received sometime during the war. Endangered by constant rape and torture encounters, not to mention the possibility of being shot at or blown up, Uno needed every help she could get.

After all, she didn't allow her comrades to fight alongside her.

She had threatened the few bioengineering doctors she had known about at that time into installing the technology into her. From then on, Uno had been immune to disease, attacks, and broken bones. It came in handy because even after the wars were all over, she still managed to break a few bones.

Several hours later, she was back to her reckless behavior as if nothing had happened.

Reminded about her change, Uno's laughter stopped abruptly. Justin took a deep breath and rubbed her back. Quite often she had forgotten she wasn't immortal anymore. It still amazed Justin that she could forget, considering last year when she had broken her knee and the bone had come right out of the skin. Justin didn't think Uno had ever felt a pain as agonizing as that in all her life. When she screamed, it was louder than he could ever imagine.

She pushed back and lowered her head. "I'm sorry," Uno muttered. "I keep forgetting."

"I know." Justin lifted her chin and looked at her softly. "Try and remember, Uno. You're not a fighter anymore, either." Her eyes sparkled with fresh tears and Justin felt his heart breaking. He pulled her into another hug.

"I'm so sorry," she muffled from his neck. "I keep forgetting. Even after last year when I broke my leg. I never felt so much pain before and I sometimes feel like it was just some dream I had, that it didn't really happen." He rubbed her back. "I just don't know how to live anymore."

Justin shushed her. "Don't say that," he cooed. "You're doing alright. Trust me."

Uno snorted. "I got fired from three jobs in less than a month, Justin. How is that doing fine?"

Justin closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. He had forgotten Uno's attempt at a normal, civilian life. Shortly after they married and Uno had returned to her mortality, she had decided to try and live like a civilian. Her first job was a cashier in a fast food place. She was fired the next day from chewing a customer out for insulting her in-training service. Then a week later, she got a job in an office inputting data. She was fired the same day for hacking the database mainframe. The following week she got a job as a sales associate at an electronic store. She managed to work there for several days until the manager listened to her explaining to a customer why their equipment wasn't any good.

She just wasn't any good unless it was dealing with the battlefield. Uno was an excellent soldier. She was a lousy civilian.

Justin pushed her away from him again and looked down at her face. Her eyes had dried up but she still looked depressed. He wrapped an arm around her back.

"Come on, Honey. Let's go get something to eat and get to bed. We'll talk about this in the morning."

Uno nodded and sniffled. "Okay," she murmured, allowing Justin to usher her out of the gym.

He flicked off the switch, closed the doors, and guided her across the courtyard. At night, their mansion was beautiful. The lighting on the second floor and the gardens the mansion had in various random places made it feel almost heavenly. Sometimes, when he and Uno had shared an elegant dinner and carried it outside into one of the gardens, he would see her as a deity sitting on a bench in the moonlight and fall in love with her all over again. There were many times he had even made love to her outside beneath the moonlight. It was magnificent.

They reached the kitchen a good five minutes later, clear across the mansion grounds, and Justin sat Uno at the table. He rummaged through the pantry for something to prepare while she sat and watched him.

"How about macaroni and cheese?" He stepped out of the pantry with a grin plastered on his face. "A brilliant meal our ancestors had created. What do you say?"

Uno smiled weakly. "Sure."

Justin prepared their dinner while he and Uno shared mile conversations about what happened while he worked at the office earlier that day. After Uno's failing attempt at living a normal life, she had given up and taken to being nothing but a housewife. It was fine with him, after all. He knew Uno wouldn't be out risking her life if she was still at home. He just wished she had a domestic bone in her body so she wouldn't be so bored all the time.

That boredom is what got her into believing she could become a paleontologist.

He sat down with two bowls of macaroni and cheese, set one in front of her, and handed her a spoon. She eyed him with a smirk.

"Forking your food again, I see."

Justin stopped halfway of taking his first bite and looked down at his fork. All his life he had eaten his macaroni and cheese with a fork and never knew why Uno preferred a spoon when he could stab the noodles instead. Her smirk remained as she took her first bite. Justin shook his head. Uno's sarcastic humor would never change. It came from her father and will probably get passed down to their children.

He stopped short of taking his first bite at that thought and peered over at her from across the table. Uno had never been one for enjoying the presence of children. She had carelessly murdered plenty of women and their children while fighting her missions and never bothered to feel sorry for any of it. It had worried him then and it worried him now. He wasn't sure exactly who she was when he first met her, but now that he knew he wondered if she truly disliked children.

Frowning at the thought, he stuffed his mouth with his first bite and muttered, "What do you think of children?" He looked down at his bowl to avoid eye contact.

'What about it?"

"Well… do you like them?"

A single shoulder shrugged on her. "Not really."

Justin's brows pinched together. "No?" He looked up with another scoop of macaroni and cheese on his fork. "How come?"

Uno was stuffing her mouth and glanced up at him from the crests of her eyes. He waited until she answered before taking his next bite.

"I don't know." She lifted her head. "I just never thought of it."

Justin nodded. "Well… are you interested?"

She thought about it for a moment. "No," she spat. "I don't know how to raise them if there isn't another war to prepare for."

Justin paused. He lowered the fork and stared at her. "Uno," he said carefully, "the wars have ended. There won't be another one so long as we're alive."

"Exactly." She took another bite then muttered out, "So I don't know how to raise them."

"Just because you family raised you in constant training doesn't mean you don't know how to learn to," he told her. "Don't forget. We fought and won so our children could have a better future than what we had."

Uno nodded but kept staring down at her bowl. "Exactly. Other people's children. Not our own."

Justin stared at her. "Uno," he said strongly. At his tone, she raised her head. "_Our_ children." She swallowed hard. "We fought so _our_ children could have a better life. Not just somebody else's, but _ours_."

She chewed her lower lip. The look he knew he was giving her was hard. He stared at her directly, unashamed and head on. Uno always came at him full force and challenged him. When they were in the wars they were always at each other's throat. It was amazing that in the single year she had disappeared from everyone, she had changed so much. Uno had ended the war, taking out more than half the city with her explosion. She had been propelled so far away from them that they had seriously thought she had been killed in the blast.

But they couldn't find any evidence of her whatsoever, no matter how hard and how often they had searched. They finally decided that, thanks to her immortality, she had fled to stay hidden for a good year or two before coming back to them. During that absence, she had apparently undergone extensive changes. He used to think she had severely struck her head but after all this time, she still has yet to return to her old self. After all, when she was fighting in a war, she was so cold that she wouldn't think twice about shooting a comrade for getting in her way. Hell, she nearly killed one from doing so!

"I'll… think about it," she murmured at last.

Justin nodded. It was a start. Having Uno just _think_ about the topic would give him reason to believe she could change her mind. She wasn't a cold-hearted bitch any longer. If she really _had_ changed, the idea may come back with a more positive answer than before.

He raised his head and watched as she finishing stuffing her meal down her throat. Aside her basic personality that had been drilled into her brain at an early age, Uno had undergone drastic changes. He adored her the first day he had met her, even though she blew up his car when she detonated a bomb set at the building it had been parked by. But now that she could become more human, albeit a non-working-class civilian, he loved her even more.

He smiled at her.

That's right. He loved her. He loved her so much he would rather sacrifice himself than allow another war to bring her old self back out.

That thought stopped him immediately. Uno's history of love explained why she failed at it so badly. Each time she had developed strong feelings for somebody, they wound up dying in place of her. Her best friend had been assassinated because the sniper missed his target. Her boyfriend, who was also the assassin, had killed himself because he couldn't pull the trigger to kill her instead. And her whole family died protecting her.

Uno _was_ a perfect creature, but since she was never shown love without paying a price, she was afraid to love at all.

Justin sighed. Uno was beautiful to him. She had the long brown hair pulled into a braid, courtesy of her father's tradition. Her violet eyes that helped stand her out in a crowd because they were a very rare color. The battle scars she wore with pride, of different gun holes and stab wounds. Most people would be disgusted at her appearance.

Justin was only attracted to her even more.

"I love you," he whispered. Uno looked back up from her bowl and after noticing the sad look in his eyes, smiled back.

"I love you, too."

He knew she wasn't lying.


End file.
